


The Glass House

by Skurf, TheMoonGuardian (moonchampion)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Magic, Elder Wand, First Meetings, First Time, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Mind Games, Slight Animal Cruelty by Aberforth, Slightly more progressive wizard homophobia, Victorian Attitudes, Young Albus, Young Gellert, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3715159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skurf/pseuds/Skurf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonchampion/pseuds/TheMoonGuardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brightest student of Hogwarts's 1899 graduating class, Albus Dumbledore was about to set off to travel the world. He was going to revolutionize the Wizarding World. Then Ariana Dumbledore killed her mother in a fit of uncontrollable magic, and he was sent back home to be her caretaker. </p><p>He was 18, resentful, and utterly miserable. Until Bathilda Bagshot introduced him to her alluring nephew, Gellert Grindelwald. </p><p>(The one where Ariana doesn't die, and the boys take her along on their quest to find the Elder Wand.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been exactly a month after the Dumbledore children lost their mother. 

Albus sat in the dining room near the window, nostalgia ringing strong at the brink of his senses. His time at Hogwarts made him a stranger to his late childhood home. The afternoon sun hugged his flesh everywhere his robes didn't cover. Sweat was building at the creases that draped his body, yet found himself unable to mind. In front of him were two bowls of oats, one of which Ariana refused to consume. She didn't eat much, in those days. The place that once held affection and love for his mother was replaced with grief and bitterness, a hollow gap awakening in his psyche. 

A month ago, he was prepared to see the world with his friend, Elphias Doge. A month ago, his mother was alive. (I should've written her more letters throughout the years, on second thought...) The eve of their departure, he received word that his sweet sister - poor, troubled and sweet Ariana, had accidentally killed their mother with her untamed magic. She was only fourteen. If Albus were locked away for years on end, he'd probably lose control as well. 

"Mother, you need to send Ariana to St. Mungo's." Albus remembered insisting, back when he returned home for the summer after his own fourth year. "Mum... I know it's horrible of me to say this, but she's a hazard to everyone here. If she went there, she'd get the help she deserves." The original reason the Dumbledore family had moved to Godric's Hollow was to avoid that outcome in the first place. After their father was taken away, their mother sailed ship to the isolated wizardly village. Nobody visited her, with the exception of Bathilda Bagshot and her own Hogwarts-bound kids. So familiar are the meals Ariana wouldn't accept and the days she spent laying around her bed, as their mother Kendra had stubbornly believed alone and safe was the only way. 

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," his mother had started, and he got a tremour remembering the intimidation she had the influence to incite. "How dare you? Ariana would be as good as dead to us if she goes there. They'd destroy her!" The horrors of long-term stays at mental facilities weren't unknown to the wizard community. Pretty, sweet Ariana could possibly break at such a drastic change. But it'd also give her a shot at a normal life, too.

Still, to this day, Albus believed his mother got what she had coming to her. She meant well, yes. But in many ways, this was technically neglect on her part: if the proper thing was to seek help, she should've done it. What sort of life would it be for Ariana to stay cooped up here? Albus thought that if he ever had the chance, he'd take Ariana with him and they'd see the world like he had planned to. 

After pondering on these topics for another ten minutes, Albus got out of the uncomfortably small dining chair(His buttocks would frequently get stuck to the chair until he'd awkwardly shake himself out. Whenever his siblings see this happening, they laugh) and grabbed the oats from the table. He pulled his coat from his chair, shrugged it on and pulled out a bucket of hay from under the sink counter. He sighed deeply. Time to feed the goats. 

Aberforth tended to at least four goats when he wasn't at school, and when he was, mother or Ari would have the responsibility to care for them. The honorary pail has been handed down to Albus now, and he was absolutely sure he didn't want to partake in this family honor in the slightest. On his way to the small goat pen, he gagged a little in his throat. He belonged in the classroom. The Care of Magical Creatures was the only class he couldn't stand.

From his textbooks, if he recalled, there was a guideline for suspected abuse of such creatures. If he examined those tell-tale signs directly, Aberforth's goat pen would qualify like the brightest applicant in a hiring pool. Ghoul blood oozing from their hooves, goat urine turning into more hay, magically enchanted healing factor via their tears, hay turning into animated barrels to encourage exercise, goats living with their insides sticking out in certain places... Aberforth had been teaching their dear sister magic, and ceased all lessons after the death of Kendra Dumbledore. 

It was against the law to mistreat any animal with magic, and like the hypocrite he was(Yelling at Albus for mistakes he does with his spells, criticizing things he ventured to do, whatever), Aberforth did just that. His head was as bright as Albus's, but it wasn't always screwed on the right way. Very wayward, that one. 

Anyway, after feeding the poor things, he'd help clean out their area and generally treat them with the kindness he wasn't sure Aberforth normally gave them. They seemed friendly enough, playfully ramming their heads into his legs and howling baaaa's. They leaned into his touch when he rubbed their heads, and enjoyed how they never criticized Albus whenever he'd rant about something he found important. Even if it were about the works of Milton, or Flamel. They'd just listen. 

On his way out, he began humming a small tune under his breath. He also failed to notice a wizard hobbling his or her way over to his house in the distance. After a few minutes, as he returned from around back of the building, he joined the main path at the same moment as the other traveler. He abruptly stumbled into a shorter, sturdier person with a basket full of items, and yelping, he pulled the person down with him to the ground. 

After he managed to sit upright, he recognized old Bathilda turned upright with her waist-petticoat turned over her eyes. "Bathilda! Oh my goodness, I... I am really sorry, I hadn't noticed you there." He also observed the now very messy wicker basket full of jarred goods, fruits, and soaps all scattered about the grass. He helped the older woman up immediately, and bent down to quickly retrieve her possessions. As he dusted off the things the best he could, Bathilda dusted off the dirt and sand off of her skirt and dress and shoes with slight annoyance. 

"Greetings to you, Albus. You've grown well, and your mother talks all about your brightness... but your coordination could use some work." Bathilda greeted, and Albus winced at the chide and the lack of past tense. 

Hmm.'"Your mother talks all about you...", you say. You mean she had talked, but now she's dead. Use the proper form, old bat.'' Albus thought meanly. 

To Albus's bewilderment, Bathilda passed the bundle of goodies back to his hand. "As it goes, I pass my condolences to your family. Kendra was the sweetest soul. May her spirit rest in peace." With hesitation, Albus accepted the basket and murmured a very sincere, guilty thank you, we appreciate it Bathilda.

They stayed quiet for a few moments, and Albus used his finger nails to pick at the wooden handle of the bundle. It was a flimsy thing, but it wasn't intended for heavy duty basket weaving. Those duties were left to the House Elves of higher families. "I want to thank you, Mrs. Bagshot... for keeping my mother company all these years." Albus decided to say, since he realised this was important to mention. Bathilda's personality wasn't his cup of tea, and growing up Aberforth and he did destroy some of her flower gardens... but she was his mother's closest friend, and it comforted him to think his mother didn't spend the last months, seasons or years of her life alone, save for young Ariana.

Ariana was mostly pleasant, and docile. But if one's only form of interaction was a young child, it would drive someone mad. Albus hadn't been here more than a couple weeks, and the endless situation was driving him bonkers. He agreed with Aberforth that Albus would stay with Ariana, while Abe finished his last couple years at Hogwarts. After Aberforth completed his education, he'd return to care for Ariana and possibly open a shop somewhere. 

And so, Albus was stuck in this village home for a couple years at least. No way to get around it, really. Elphias Doge, who went ahead with his plans to travel the world without Albus, promised to visit Godric's Hollow at least twice a year for his best friend. That he'd bring him back souvenirs, and not to wallow. That he'd travel the world again with him, if he really had to. 

Albus doubted these constant reassurances with every letter update he received from him, more and more. If Elphias brought back souvenirs like he promised, Albus would probably burn it in the fireplace after he's gone. (Unless Ariana took a liking to something, then he supposed she could keep it.) 

Ariana knew being at Godric's Hollow put Albus in less than a dapper mood. In fact, she knew he detested being stuck here. She would mostly bite her lip, and attempt to offer a peace-offering if he was in another funk. Like asking him to give her another boring lecture about geography, or candy-making. Yet she had a resentment greater than Albus's, one that had been fostered throughout her entire life. 

When Albus didn't want to get up from bed some days, after twelve hours or more, she'd gently poke and prod him when necessary. She'd converse with him, and try to bring him objects from outside to cheer up his mood. But if he started on about Elphias for more than an hour, Ariana would listen for some time, before she'd finally snap: "You shall be stuck for another three years, my dear brother, but that isn't a lifetime. I have to make due with my situation, and you're being a prat. Get up now, otherwise I'm done with you for the evening." 

And he'd get up, because his sister was absolutely right. 

Back in the present, when Albus looked up to Bathilda again, he saw tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. Her face was struggling through a cringe fest, similar to the way people do before they begin crying. In a weaker voice, she said: "It was a pleasure. To be honest, it felt more like she was keeping me company." Albus began searching through his pockets for a handkerchief. "Oh, I miss her so. She made the loveliest cakes, and our talks were divine." A couple tears were streaming down when Albus finally found it, and he clambered to give it to her. 

"Y... yes, it's tragic. My mother deserved so much more." Albus added with a smaller voice filled with unease, the last part more a reflection for himself. Her daughter, brutally attacked by muggles and mentally scarred from using magic for the rest of her life. Her husband, arrested after seeking and accomplishing revenge. And later, for him to die in Azkaban. Albus's brave, very naive mother moving the family in seclusion to protect Ariana. His loyal, ever-loving mother who died while trying to calm little Ari's recent outburt. Losing everything, just for her little girl. 

"She loved you all so dearly, and I admire her for all she did." Bathilda quietly admitted, and gave a contemplating stare at the eldest Dumbledore child. "It's very kind of you, to come back and take care of your sister after everything. Most would send her to St. Mungo's." Albus wondered why everyone mistrusted St. Mungo's. Then again, he never knew anyone who actually went there. 

"Of course. I love my little sister... she's absolutely mortified by what happened, and I know she didn't mean it. Dear god, she didn't mean it." Still, Albus felt a slight amount of resentment. If those boys hadn't seen her displaying magic that one summer day, if they hadn't violated her... the outcomes of their lives would be drastically different. "Family's the most important thing we have in the world, my mother used to say. Doing this for them, staying here... it's not, uh, so bad." Yet it was. He once again cussed the muggles, although he was sure it was misplaced anger. Many of his friends at Hogwarts were muggle borns. He didn't mean it, but he wasn't sure where else to direct his frustration. So, he fed that flame.

"Still, very noble of you. That you didn't abandon your brother, after you finished school. That you let him return to Hogwarts." Bathilda noted with sudden interest, and sheepish, Albus shrugged boyishly at the sentiment. He supposed that his entire background was tragedy in a sense, and that ventures like these would be seen as noble. It didn't feel like that - it felt like chewed wheat trapped in between his feet, it felt like the talks he'd have with Ariana behind her door, trying to convince her to come out. It felt like the rope used to tie Aberforth's animals were used to tame Albus, and chain him to what he tried running away from. 

"Not quite a problem with me, really," Albus assured politely, but it was a lie that burnt metaphorical marks into his teeth. Bathilda gave Albus a look full of sympathy, admiration, and other uncomfortable emotions that the eighteen-year-old wasn't used to dealing with everybody just yet. 

Before he left, for example, Elphias gifted him a good amount of those before the train back to town. While Albus was at the station with his bags and suitcases and book bundles, his friend even cried for him. Albus will never get used to those looks. He'll be old and gray, with wrinkles deeper than the ones in his robes, and he'll never get used to the look of grief.

Finally, after more silence, Bathilda gave a coy smile at the teenager. "I didn't come only to give you those supplies, but also to invite you and your sister to dinner." When she announced this, Albus's jerk response was to make up an excuse on why he couldn't go. In all respects, Albus was just tired in every way possible. Bathilda was a kind person in her own right, but Albus just wanted to lay in his bed and scream. He barely had the energy to keep up this facade of calm in front of his neighbor. He saw it now: that would be the majority of his stay here. Just screaming into his bedding, and refusing all invitations for human contact. 

"My great-nephew's going to be there as well. He's about your age, a little shorter." Bathilda mentioned off-hand, and her smile grew a couple sizes. Albus wanted to groan, and wondered why old people thought compatibility was determined by age group. His stress level was rising, but it stopped when she continued: "He used to attend Durmstrang, but... he was expelled, for doing outrageous science experiments." This caught his ear, and he perked up immediately. Durmstrang was the choice Wizarding School within Scandinavia, and was notorious for its inclusion of Dark Arts within their own mandatory curriculum. 

Intrigued now, Albus asked a little more about the nephew. "What did he do to get him expelled, exactly?" he questioned, appropriateness aside. 

This was the wrong question to ask, and her face dropped and turned slightly gray. With a scandalized, appalled tone, she whispered: "My child, you do not wish to know. Horrendous, absolutely stupid things." This made him more curious, and finally, he weighed his options. It wasn't significant at the time, but this was a place where in Albus's life, he could pinpoint later on where it all went astray. And that would be when he accepted a dinner party invitation from Bathilda, to dine with her and her great-nephew. 

At the moment, he just wondered how he was going to ask the guy how he got expelled... if he'd go. After considering it all, Albus realised that there really wasn't any reason to decline. This was a fascinating development he wished to know more about, as if there were anything to compete with that in such a drab place. In a way to fix the damage, he told her his decision. "I'd like to go. What time should Ariana and I head over?" 

She beamed, and Albus wondered if she had some sort of plan. He sensed one of those 'My young son / nephew / whatever has no friends, but you're the the same age, y'all can bond so he won't be so miserable' sort of things within the air, and if Albus's mother were still alive, she'd do the same exact thing. And if Albus's mother were alive, he wouldn't be here in the first place. Suddenly, he realized he zoned out and didn't catch the time. He asked her to repeat the time, and she said 7:30 would be preferable.

Finally, he thanked her once again, and paused before making his goodbyes. He asked his last question as a free man: "What's your nephew's name?" At this, she couldn't seem more happier. It was as if he discovered Wizard Christmas or something, and although her face had its somberness from its earlier crying spell, she brightened considerably.

"Gellert. Gellert Grindlewald, on my sister's side." And with that, he made his goodbyes and they went their separate ways. 

Albus would never be a free man, after that sentence.


	2. Chapter 2

Gellert admitted – Being thrown out from Durmstrang hadn’t been a part of his plan from the very beginning. But nothing ever stopped Gellert in his stride for long. He was a master of making the best of any situation. Durmstrang had been growing too small for him under his last year anyhow, so it wasn’t much of a loss. 

Being sent away to his great aunt Bathilda in England was great – Britain was considered the magic headquarters of the world. Escaping the boring little village in Germany where his parents lived – He wasn’t welcomed and he didn’t mind. He had thrown himself onto the opportunity to live with Bathilda over the summer. He knew that she was respected as a scholar, so even if the town was boring he would have books to read. He had been prepared for an exciting trip, but so far Godric’s Hollow hadn’t delivered. It didn’t worry him, because Bathilda had told him about a boy. 

Albus Dumbledore – Just having turned 18 and had finished his education with flying colours, he had heard a lot of interesting rumours about him. Bathilda had, in confidence, told Gellert that some of her acquaintances betted amongst themselves which year Albus was going to become the next Ministry of Magic. 

The boy supposedly had everything, extremely talented with both his wand and the pen, with a kind, calm charismatic aura and, last but not least, a strong magic signature. Gellert was beyond curious and excited to meet this man – his senior by two years – that high scholars predicted would be something great but was now stuck in this little village with his magically instable sister. 

Gellert Grindlewald wanted to impress this Albus, but he didn’t want the other to know that, therefore he dressed smartly but not flamboyant or in any way too fancy. He let his golden locks fall around his face – accentuating his handsome features – His eyes almost an unnatural shade of green. He was dressing the table lazily, waving his wand without much care – but the plates slid gracefully through the air anyhow. Bathilda gave him a kiss on his cheek, and pinched the other one as if he was a child. He scowled at her, and she rolled her eyes before giving him a stern look telling him not to be impolite. 

When the Dumbledore’s knocked at the door, Gellert was the one that opened. 

His eyes slid over the tall man in front of him – He was lanky, and thin. But he was strong - Gellert could feel it. His fingers buzzing with Albus’ magical presence. He was radiating a strong, but calm aura. But he felt something more, a disturbance that he was sure came from the girl behind Albus. Gellert was sure that Albus could feel his magical signature – Much wilder and untamed than his own. On his straight nose a pair of half-moon spectacles balanced, and his face was pretty long – Framed by auburn hair which looked as smooth as silk. 

His eyes were as blue as the skies. 

“You must be Albus Dumbeldore.” Gellert said, without a second of hesitation reaching out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” He glanced up at him, searching in his blue eyes, giving him a small mischievous smirk as he read what kind of impression he had made in his eyes. 

The moment the door opened for Albus, it revealed a well-dressed man with the most dazzling eyes, and the air in Albus's throat hitched and died so rapidly, he was a few decibels away from making a full throated gasp. Instead he passed it off as a cough, but his eyes were entranced by the man. He was shorter, Albus noted, but his entire body radiated confidence. His body was sturdier than Al's own slender frame, and his face held a certain quality of softness. In the rosiness of his cheeks, in the pointedness of his features. Yet his eyes held contrary to this. His eyes seemed to be made of steel.

"He's cute." Ariana whispered behind Albus, and Albus began to laugh at this. Releasing his hand of the iron restraint, he lightly pulled Ariana from behind him and shoo'ed her towards Bathilda's nephew. Her eyes were glassy and wide, unprepared to be brought to the front of attention, but they regarded Gellert with curiosity. "This is my younger sister, Ariana. Ariana, this is Mrs. Bagshot's nephew, Gellert."

"Hello, mister." She greeted shyly, curtsied, and gave him a badly-made handshake. Interestingly, her handshakes were firmer. Albus knew why. Aberforth had always told her, usually while sitting on top of their father's old workbench outside as they ate Chocolate Frogs: 'To survive in this world, you need to give a person a good handshake. A real good one, one they'd remember. None of that weak, dainty horse bull. You crush that hand, Ari.' Ariana, ever the saint, would offer Albus some of her sweets if he were ever around. He mostly declined, but he'd take a chair sometimes and hear Aberforth talk. 

In Aberforth's talks, that was where a person would realise the potential within him. His voice was passionate and sincere about whatever he'd say. Ariana would always get awed by the urban myths of Hogwarts itself, or greatly amused by his tales of stealing kitchen food after-hours, or outrageous accidents of other kids' during lessons. Ariana wouldn't ever know how the school looked like, but through Aberforth, he painted a picture in her head and allowed her to imagine. If she went, she'd be in her Fourth Year. 

Then, she said something out of the blue: "My brother thinks what you did was admirable." Albus's eyebrows shot up, and he sent her a warning look. Ariana, never having the allowance of safety outside for the other kids, grew up with honesty and a construed social construction. Rules were bent for her when she was difficult, but rightfully so. She didn't see it as inappropriate to mention, as she had no experience outside of what came into her house anyway, and Albus couldn't scold her about it. At least, not here. 

Gellert bent down to kiss Ariana's cheek as a greeting, before raising a brow at Albus. "Did he now?" he murmured. He held out his own hand to Albus. The older one took his hand gently, but as Gellert grasped it, his hand was engulfed into a firm squeeze. For a long pause, the hand stayed there and they resigned themselves to staring at one another. Their chests and chins stood tall, but Albus's form was more sloppy and nervous. Chills were running down his spine and hips. His ears and face rushed with blood at this, and he opened his mouth to speak. 

Then Gellert kissed him on his cheek, the same way as Ariana, and Albus's skin burned at the touch. He supposed that he might as well press a fire iron into his cheek, for at the moment, it'd have the same effect as Gellert's greeting.

"I am a man of science and reason." Albus explained, very proud that he didn't let himself stammer. "I'm not entirely clear of the circumstances that brought you here," This was very vague, but he kept it non-specific out of politeness. And then, he kissed his cheek back. His kiss was non-intrusive but lingering. "But, pushing past the limit brings us closer to accomplishing greatness. Welcome to England." 

Their eyes just held there once more, and Albus tried holding his ground despite the tension bubbling within his stomach. He was zoned out into his own world: that Gellert's eyes stared like a serpent, and Albus's leveled stare had the elegance of a hawk's. That their silence seemed more telling than any words could decipher. 

Albus didn’t pull away as Gellert spoke – His voice deep and low. Gellert could feel his breath caress his cheek, warm and smelling faintly of mint. He felt as if he was drawn closer to Albus. His words made him even more interested – Albus seemed to understand him. It was odd, he usually didn’t feel this way towards anyone. 

He usually thought people were dull, maybe sometimes a bit fun to play with but he put them aside quickly. He had never this genuinely interested in anyone, never felt this need to get to KNOW somebody – not to manipulate him, but only get to know (maybe some manipulating… later on). Then Albus pressed his cold lips to his cheek, and Gellert leaned back. Quite impressed. He had some gut after all. 

At the peak moment of intensity, Bathilda came by and greeted Albus more properly than she did earlier in the morning. Her friendliness and tolerance of the eldest Dumbledore child seemed much higher than it did in previous years. He wondered if it were a show for his sister, Ariana. Bathilda always preferred sweet, soft-spoken Ariana. He assumed she saw her as the perfect little daughter she never had. 

She gave him a light hug, and he returned it with a quick kiss to her cheek as well. He did it deliberately, as if so Gellert wouldn't assume the kiss Albus gave him had any more meaning than it did. To what meaning, Albus wasn't clear of. 

"Albus! Glad you could make it. Seeing that no furniture has been broken, I believe your clumsiness has improved since earlier in the day." One thing about Mrs. Bagshot was her sharp tongue. Similar to Ariana, it had a disregard to social convention. The difference though: Bathilda was aware of it. 

They stood like that, watching each other for a moment. Assessing each other quietly, until Bathilda had interrupted them. It rubbed Gellert the wrong way, but he didn’t make it visible. He instead guided Ariana and the other’s into the dining hall. Bathilda was animatedly talking with Albus about an article she had published. Gellert pulled out the chair for Ariana. She blushed and sat down, letting Gellert push it back into place. 

Bathilda made a little scene about wanting to carry out the food, but Gellert told her that he had it covered. She leaned back with a smile, and Gellert knew it had only been a gest of her to insist that she would serve the table. 

With a coy movement of his wand he levitated the food out onto the big oak table. Bathilda liked cooking extravagant things when she had guests – Gellert had noticed. The turkey was large and smelled delicious. He poured wine for Albus, himself and Bathilda but pumpkin juice for Ariana. He got the seat next to the girl and in front of Albus. 

“Oh, I am starving!” Said Bathilda, “Let’s eat shall we?” She chuckled and winked at Ariana who giggled and glanced up at Gellert with rosy cheeks.  
Oh, how easy it was to steal the hearts of young girls. 

When Albus took in the sights around him, he wondered if he were in heaven(If such a place existed, that is). The amount of food available was probably equivalent to a four course meal. The aroma of their finely prepared foods spread throughout the house, giving a mix of sweet, tart and warm smells--- such as fruits, meats, cinnamon and bread into the air. 

Among the things on their table: meat delicacies cooked with marinated sauces, fine garlic and cheese breads, green beans and broccoli and peas broiled in foreign oils, fruit platters filled with dragon fruit, pomegranate, berries, grapes and pears, salad bowls full of lettuce, dressing, cucumbers and tomatos from Spain, a spinach and pork broth, pastries covered under a silver cover, three types of wine and juice and ale, and finally, a handful of candies in a small glass.

Albus was amazed by the effort the woman had put to the food, and with a sense of awe, he gave his compliments with absolute sincerity. "Everything looks stunning, Mrs. Bagshot. Enough to feed an army or two." He raised his glass of wine, the one Gellert had poured for him(He noted the finger print Gellert left by the condensation and used his own to press it where his own finger was...), and made a toasting gesture to her. 

Ariana nodded and hummed her agreement, before repeating the same kindness except in smaller words. Hers was less out of her heart, but more out of her stomach. But also of awe, in a way. While Kendra treated Ariana with harsh words and coldness during times of great stress, Bathilda was always nice and affectionate and like an aunt to her. "Thank you, Auntie Bagshot." Hearing this made Bathilda glow and beam a smile at the girl. 

"Ahh, dear, it is no problem at all. Unlike my own nephews and nieces, you tend to visit more." She winked at her own great-nephew, Gellert, when she made that jibe. "Maybe I'll write you into my will instead!" Here, Bathilda began to make a loud and boisterous laugh, mostly because it was an empty statement. Other than the family house and the monthly royalties she received from book sales after retiring(She was a historian and has written textbooks in the past), she was far from wealthy. Above-average comfort were the words to describe it, really. 

Albus watched Gellert eat from the corner of his eye. He observed the way the gentleman ate: elegantly, and with refined style. He saw how his fork picked up the food piece by piece, getting dragged to the abyss of his lips. He became a little distracted with being hyper-aware, he thought, since he also paid attention to the way Gellert's Adam's apple in his throat bobbed and flexed every time he swallowed. Albus tried to ignore the chill that went through his body, and he glanced at the windows to make sure they were closed. The room was very cold, wasn't it? 

Bathilda reached her hand towards Ariana for a moment, and used a tender squeeze. "Let it also be known, young one: I will always be around if my presence is ever required." She then gave Albus a softened look, and slowly shook her head up to up above, directing her sadness towards the fairy gods. (She very well be turning senile, but at least she had a good reputation.) 

"When I heard your mother died, I was devastated. Death of my own friends and family isn't surprising news at my age, but most were old and lived long lives." Ariana's face began draining of color. A pause. "She was so young, compared to me. But her efforts aren't in vain. You both are marvelous kids, and both your parents would be proud." 

The atmosphere around the table turned decidedly somber and perhaps a little more tense. Ariana gently slid her hand away, and began counting the wooden panels above the ceiling in her head. This was the first time Ariana heard a conversation about her mother since immediately after her death. She stayed quiet despite a dam that held her emotions breaking, and starting to flood her head with anger and resentment and self-hate. They wouldn't be proud of me, she thought. I practically made their ends--- my father with my tormentors, and my mother with my instability, she reflected with a blank, suddenly distant expression. 

Albus himself winced a little at Ariana's sourness, having forgotten to warn Bathilda that the topic was still extremely sensitive. Damage-control was coming up soon, and the eldest Dumbledore child could see it coming by. Ariana had barely agreed to come out of the house, after nearly two weeks. He wished to lighten the mood, but any ideas were lost in his initial worry for his sister. His neighbor had never seen Ariana's outbursts up close, actually. All of the neighbors surrounding were aware of the consequences of them though--- whether it was from a broken windmill or the destruction of a well, mailbox, or something that stood in her way. "Thank you, Bathilda. Your kindness will never be forgotten." 

A solid five minutes where only the clatter of forks and food and more swallowing were heard. Albus didn't see why that was driving him mad, but Gellert's throat was much more fascinating to watch than anything else among the room. He wondered if the German were courting a girl back home, or had some sort of sweetheart, since he seemed to be one. He made a shy, quirky smile at the fellow young gentleman from across the table. "So, Gellert... your girlfriend must be weeping at your school town for your return, mustn't you?" Durmstrang was apparently an all-males institute, but there was no reason why he couldn't have a girlfriend at the local village town. 

Especially with his looks. Albus wasn't a woman, yet he certainly recognized the boy as fair and handsome. He voiced it aloud, too. "Such a good-looking fellow, it'd be an embarrassment to the stars if you didn't." He murmured, taking a sip from his wine glass and meeting Gellert's eyes for the first time since entering the dining room. That one, he'll blame on the wine.


	3. Chapter 3

Gellert noticed that Albus’ eyes traced him as he was eating. It was interesting – that the other seemed to affected by him. He didn’t tease him though. The atmosphere went sour as Bathilda mentioned the diseased mother. The tension from Ariana’s magic was almost palpable. She was powerful, Gellert thought as he ate. More powerful than Bathilda certainly believed. She reminded Gellert of himself – a wild sort of magic that couldn’t be tamed and that leaked out of her shell. He bet that she wasn’t even allowed a wand – If she would have been able to channel this power it would have ended badly. 

They didn’t speak of it though, but he was certain that all of them could feel it. It was when Ariana had calmed down that Albus asked him if he had a partner. He almost giggled – It was so obvious. He could even see Bathilda frown for a moment, knowing what she thought about Gellert’s own very promiscuous sexuality (on the train from London he had openly flirted with a man in their compartment, and she had frowned the whole time – And as the man she had slapped Gellert on the wrist, telling him that that sort of behaviour wasn’t ‘acceptable’ in Britain, ‘no matter what you experienced in Durmstrang’). He figured she was a bit taken aback that Albus Dumbledore wasn’t immune to his charm either. 

“As a matter of fact, I do not have a girlfriend awaiting my return” He took a sip of his wine. “I’ve never been interested in something serious – I’ve always been too focused on my studies. If you don’t mind me guessing, I would guess that you are the same.” He hummed. “Always with your nose in a book, Bathilda told me that you don’t even notice as girls turn around after you.” He added with a grin. He held Albus gaze as he talked. The air once again buzzed with tension, Gellert’s mouth stretching into a lazy grin and just as it reached its peak Bathilda cleared her throat. 

“I am sure that Albus will find a suitable young lady to take as a wife when he feels ready.” 

She gave Gellert a stern look, as if it was doing holding Albus’ gaze like that. 

Albus blinked out of his stupor, and with a slight suspicion, he observed the stern glare Bathilda was giving Gellert suddenly. (Didn't she want us to be friends hours ago?) The switch in the atmosphere hit him, as if an idiot were hitting pans together in front of his face. Albus soon played over their conversation of the last minute in his head, and acknowledging the elder's remark, his face reddened. 

Damage-control was definitely in order, it seemed. He choose his words carefully, and after pausing for a long time, he answered as a way of assurance. "Ah, not exactly. I discussed this with the headmaster at Hogwarts last year. Merlin lead a life of celibacy, as a way to focus on his research." 

Bathilda's brows had shot up in weird directions when he began talking, but at the mention of the world celibacy, her entire frame relaxed a bit more. "I'd much rather devote myself to magic as a whole, doing research and such. I told my headmaster I'd like to try it for a while." Albus explained to the occupants around the table, and with a more tight, restrained tone, he finished: "I much wouldn't want to bring a family into the world if I cannot provide the same dedication. Namely, being present." Albus shook his head, and then made a small smile at his sister, Ariana. 

"Since you don't have a girlfriend now, maybe Ariana can be yours." When Albus suggested this, his tone was playful and teasing, but his eyes concentrated on the other male wizard's more intensely. Bathilda was looking at Ariana with a sense of affection and glee now, not noticing the staring had continued. "But as her older brother, if you broke her heart, I'd be more than willing to... break you." He directed the teasing directly to him and only him, and when Albus mentioned breaking, his gaze fell all around Gellert, giving him a look-over from his mouth to his neck. Albus opened his own mouth to show he was biting his own tongue. 

Bathilda made a big grin at the last part, dropped her napkin, turned back to the rest and made happy clapping at such an idea. "Finally, a union I would give my blessing for." Her faith in the Hogwarts graduate strengthened, and she knew it was good to introduce Albus to Gellert. He'd set his head on right, since her nephew's was topsy and turvy and sinful. 

Ariana's face was the color of sickly roses, but it had its own blushing appeal. Her eyes had widened, and she made nervous, flattered laughing. 

Celibacy? Gellert was glad that he was able to control himself to such an extent that he didn’t snort with laughter or collapsed in a heap of giggles. He only crooked his eyebrow. Albus was much better at reading Bathilda than he had given him credit for – And he acted like a professional manipulator right now. Even teasing her sister slightly. Gellert gave Ariana a warm glance, and the girl was stubbornly staring down into her plate – Her cheeks very rosy. Gellert wondered if Albus’ cheeks lit up in the same way when he was flustered – He wanted to find that out. 

He could feel Albus’ eyes on him again, and moved his green eyes to him. As Bathilda was focused on Ariana, Albus had seemingly taken the opportunity to check him out. He tilted his head to the side, and with a movement of his wand under the table, he made his golden locks brush back – exposing his neck, pale and spotless. As Albus eyes slid over his lip his tongue darted out to wet them. 

He was certain that Albus wouldn’t be able to break him, oh, but he would want him to try. He felt out of himself. The thrill was greater than usual – and more focused on the chemistry. Otherwise he only find pleasure in dominating, but this play between them was highly alluring. 

At last he moved away his eyes from Albus – looking at Bathilda. “Oh, I would be lucky to marry such a fair maiden as Ariana.” He said, glancing down at the girl who was still too flustered to speak. Before Bathilda could insist that she would clean the table, Gellert got up and with elegant movement of his wand commanded the plates back into the kitchen. 

When Albus heard Gellert's silly announcement, he made a light laugh, similar to a bell getting rung and emitting a sound that was pleasant and bright. "Before you marry my sister, you must prove yourself to our family. In what way, that is up to you." And with this, Albus got up from his chair. 

"I'm going to the washroom." But he wasn't.

The previous statement seemed to humor Bathilda more, and she just made happy hums under her throat. Hers was weaved in loose skin and lines that showed her age, and it webbed up to her eye creases and ears. "Gellert, she's only five years younger than you. I would be so happy if she were part of the family." She crooned, using her raisin hands to pat and grip onto Ariana's. 

Ariana made a quiet, hopeful smile at the both of them. She wouldn't reply to that at the moment, since it wasn't her place. If she had to decide on a husband, it'd be the author of her favorite storybook because she loved the narration and the characters. Also, an outdated photo of a handsome wizard was printed on the back. It forever moved with a humble, simple smile at what seemed to be the promotional team with new technology. The book was written a hundred years ago. 

At the present, a handsome man in his late teens seemed very charming and smart and easy-going. He stood next to his aunt, patient and waiting. He had the rare talent in making even bookish Albus more into his old self: playful and friendly, like they were in their early childhood. She also remembered what Aberforth told her: if you marry, find a bright-minded man. He didn't seem to bad of an option to her. Actually, he was a very, very not-bad option to the girl who was only fourteen. 

"You better be smart. Otherwise, I don't want you." But she did. 

When Albus got up and moved out of the room, he wanted to follow him. Sneak after him and press him up against the wall where no one could see them, but that would be too suspicious – So he let him pass. That Bathilda was so eager to marry him off to Ariana surprised him very little, but the boldness of the girl sure did. He gave her a smile, chuckling and leaned down so that he could look her in the eye. 

“I hope that I’m clever enough for you.” He said, winking at her. “I can feel that you are a powerful witch, -“ He reached out and pushed a strand of her blond hair, behind her ear. “And you will be very beautiful when you come of age” He arose, and Bathilda looked at him with pride. 

At this, Ariana's appearance began getting more and more flustered. She made one wild, sideways glance towards the room where Albus disappeared into. She wondered if he went to explore for the books around Bathilda's house. When she saw her brother wasn't around, she simply mumbled the words into her sleeve: "Thank you... sir." The idea of marriage and romance in general made her infinitely curious, in the same equal amount that it made her extremely uncomfortable. 

Gellert smiled as the girl called him ‘sir’ – Oh, how soft-spoken she was! Her cheeks were red with flush, and her eyes didn’t focus on Gellert, instead she was looking down at the floor. 

As she was getting up from the table to get her brother, Bathilda's arm steadied her in her place. "Ariana, dear, while Gellert and Albus talk, let me show you some family heirlooms." Bathilda craned her head, and gestured towards the storage room on the other side of the hall. She encouraged her arm in that direction, and Ariana quickly fled the room to climb the stairs. 

Bathilda waited a couple moments until she heard the click of the second-flood hallway door open and close. 

Then she gave her nephew a somewhat warning, wry look. "Gellert, play nice. Even if he doesn't become your brother-in-law, he's good for you." And with that, she followed the child up to the other section of her large house. 

In the other room, Albus was indeed scouting around the historian's house for books. If Albus was going to stay in this village for three years, he might as well not be bored with himself. He walked through a number of dark rooms, and in each contained at least one book. Every time he examined the cover, it was either a romance, a cooking book or a personal journal. He made a face.

As much as he'd like to see notes on recent works of Bathilda's in the making, he held himself to certain boundaries. He'd never cross that line with Bathilda. As for her incredibly charming nephew... Albus felt the spread of heat within the fiber of his skin, from his insides to his face, and down below. He supposed that was a place he'd belong to, if he allowed himself this: down, down, down. 

At Hogwarts, the number of female students had been growing, but male students were a better fraction of the entire school. (The largest populations of female students were normally sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. It wasn't surprising: both founders were women.) For girls that had strong traits in either Slytherin or Gryffindor were placed there, but not without discomfort. Both houses roughed the girls a little more, strengthening them against the meekness they had been brought up as. 

And, Albus hadn't felt a thing towards them. He's brought a couple girls on dates throughout the years, but he'd never go farther than awkwardly kissing them(Or actually, getting kissed by them. He noted how he never initiated the kiss). They'd get annoyed, tell him he's being old fashioned and that they desired more. The truth was: he just didn't want more. 

He didn't take pleasure in dating back then, and took it as a sign to just study harder. But it wasn't unheard of to hear of male to male relationships. They were just remarkably more discreet about it. (And if female to male relationships had a standard of being discreet already, imagine the tighter ways they kept up their facade of being "platonic.") His roommate, in fact, participated in one. He was a tall, bulkier man than Albus, and he played beater in the recently imported game of Quidditch. 

Some nights after a game when everyone was out and Albus hid under the covers of his bed and pillows(With a book, of course), he'd hear his roommate bring back what he thought would be a girl. It was, in fact, the seeker and the seeker was another man. It happened four times, and Albus did not really mind. (He was an off child, wasn't he?) Instead of repulsing him, it seemed more like a closer bond between males, and it seemed right. 

Albus soon found himself surrounded by maps, bookcases, two desks, a telescope, a mechanical globe and random papers thrown around. There were many astronomy charts on the wall and behind one of the desks, there was a mobile blackboard with equations and numbers. Scribbled among the charts in dried, once drippy ink were extra notes added to update the ever-changing field of science. Underneath the papers were calculators and small inventions that stayed in motion through the art of physics. This was Mrs. Bagshot's late husband's study. He had been an astronomer. 

Gellert controlled himself not to grin widely as Bathilda allowed him to go and look up where Albus were hiding. Gellert gave her a little nod as she told him to ‘play nice’. Oh, Gellert would play nice. “When don’t I play nice?” He hummed and disappeared up the stairs. 

He followed the sounds of the footsteps. He found himself in Bathilda’s late husband’s study. He stood in the door frame, observing Albus for a whole minute as he was looking around. His shoulders were slim, but straight, his neck long. As he was tracing a book he saw how long and slender Albus’ fingers really were. “Are you hiding?” Gellert asked, slowly moving into the room and sliding the door shut with an elaborate gesture. He then started to walk closer, looking into Albus eyes as he was moving. “Got your head up among the stars?” He asked, nodding towards the star maps. 

Albus didn't even lift his eyes off the book. "Are you so sure I'm hiding?" He heard the click of the wooden door closing shut, and ignored the last question. "Maybe I've lead you to a trap," Albus hummed as he studied the inventions Mrs. Bagshot's late husband left behind in the world. In particular, he played around with the spectrometer. 

It was an instrument used to measure the properties of light over a specific portion of the electromagnetic spectrum, which in turn communicated radiation through a range of colors, waves and frequencies. "This machine allows the user to rotate the color screens near the eye slit, add temperature to the other beam, and intersect each other through the prism. Doing this changes the perception of what the user sees."

It was made of a half-oval wooden panel, two thin beams to slide color plates and heat them with, a glass prism in the middle, and measurement numbers decorating the edges. It was more alien than the tools his potions master normally used. He twisted the dial of the heat lamp to activate it. "No matter what way you look at the screen, it remains the same in essence... Even when others see it in different colors. You cannot trust your eyes." He finally carried his eyes off of the invention, backed away and nodded at Gellert to look through to see for himself. 

Albus's eyes held a challenge. The blue in them turned vibrant and bold, daring him. Albus folded his fingers together, and laid them at his navel, and waited. 

When Gellert entered the tight space between the two desks where the spectrometer lied, Albus could see the amused smile the other man was wearing. When he peered through the glass, Albus leaned over to pull the dial towards the other side to show him the range of visible wavelengths. 

When his arm reached for the beam, it brushed the cuffs of Gellert's sleeve and his forearm, as Albus's taller body hovered over him. Steady breaths of the shorter man's tickled Albus's face, a necessary sacrifice for their approximate closeness. His breath and hair smelled like chamomile and honey, respectively. He pushed the boundary more, and drew his head lower. 

"Do you trust what you see, Gellert?" he whispered into his ear, his lips brushing against the lobe. And then, Albus withdrew himself from Gellert, the same as before, and continued exploring about the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Gellert had never been technical; He didn’t read up on magic, he felt magic. It was intuition for him. He had started to use magic remarkably early and it had grown powerful with him. He only read things which would help him – Researching new kinds of magic. Delving deeper into the darker realm – that’s what had gotten him kicked out (and of course, the rather cruel ways he had tested his theories on muggles). He wasn’t interested in astronomy – and especially not this kind of muggle astronomy. However, he obediently moved between Albus and the instrument. He leaned down to peer at it, squinting at the colours. 

He could feel Albus presence behind him, and then his body was almost brushing his. Albus was hovering over him, and Gellert’s response was to push back into him. Leaning ever so softly into his touch. He craned his head like a cat wanting to be petted as Albus whispered into his ear and he was ready to turn around and claim those lips for his own. His heart was beating, pumping out hot blood into his veins filled with lust. And then Albus pulled away and it almost made him angry – He heard a glass vial on the desk quiver. Albus was teasing him – And succeeding with it. Noticing that Albus didn’t follow his every whim was infuriating, but at the same time made him want that more. He needed to claim some sort of control over this Albus Dumbledore. 

He followed him into the next room, like a cat waiting for the moment to strike. It was Bathilda’s study – A smaller room. Every inch of the walls was covered with books. It had a desk, which Gellert knew that his aunt didn’t use (She was too lazy, she usually sat in the armchair letting one of her magical feather quills write down her thoughts for her). “I must say-“ Gellert hummed. “You are way more interesting that I thought.” He leaned against the desk, bright eyes following Albus. “When she spoke about you she painted a picture of a boy always playing by the rules – A clever school boy.” His eyes didn’t leave Albus. “But now I believe that you are way more interesting than that.” He almost purred now. 

Albus observed Gellert leaning back on the desk, seeing his fingers roam backwards into the wood. Gellert crossed his legs together, with higher leg sticking out in soft elegance. Albus could make out the shape of his legs under his pants and his sock garters, with the sight of his toes hidden underneath his leather shoes. At the intersection where his legs crossed over the other, his face became curious of the area underneath.

When Gellert caught him looking over at him instead of the books behind him like pretended to, Albus quickly made himself to seem like he was rolling his eyes, as if he were unimpressed anyway. It was a performance. "I am a clever school boy, but I am no more interesting than any other school boy." Spotting a wheeled ladder to reach the higher shelves, he pulled it towards what seemed to be the transfiguration section of the closet library(At least, he noted that the library was in alphabetical order and what would be the "T" books were shelved rather higher than the average wizard). 

Setting it against the aforementioned section, he began steadying it with the wheel stopper and he called over his shoulder, "Mind holding it place for me, will you?" When Gellert lifted himself from his position to do this, Albus took his time in going up. He hadn't even gone past the second step, and he was still facing the boy. "And, I believe you're rather interesting. Tell me, what did you do at Durmstrang?" 

In the dim light, the blonde-haired boy on the ground was still alluring, as if Gellert glowed despite the darkness. Albus slowly moved himself up, but allowed his chest and cheek to press against Gellert's as he moved himself. A calculated touch. "I'm dying, in a way, to know what terrible things you're capable of." He allowed himself a moment to nuzzle his cheek at his delicious hair, but it could simply be mistakened for adjusting himself. And then, he climbed the rest of the way so he could browse the books. 

“I didn’t say you were more interesting than anyone else.” He hummed as he leaned back a little. “I said you were more interesting than I thought, more interesting than the average person.” He pursed his lips as he observed Albus moving around in the study. He wondered if Albus was looking for something, or if he was just mindlessly wandering glancing over at books. He heaved himself up as Albus asked for his help. 

Albus was acting like a cat, brushing up against him on his way up the ladder. Gellert gave him a calculated look, his eyebrow crooked slightly. Hips lips pursed in a perfect smirk. “What I did when I was at Durmstrang?” He hummed, his tone low and dark. “I really don’t think you’re ready for those secrets yet.” His voice had transformed into a hot whisper. Eyes never leaving Albus’ blue eyes. When the other turned and climbed up the ladder he had a perfect view of his behind. He leaned against the ladder lazily. 

“You know what they say about you?” He asked, curiously. “What Bathilda and her scholars predict?” He was looking up at him, curious to see his reaction. 

Albus winced at a little at Gellert's inquiry, knowing exactly what Bathilda Bagshot's personal opinion of him was. His lips formed a small pout that he hid under his shirt collar. He reached the third to last step. With a quieter tone, he said: "I imagine nothing too peculiar." He thumbed the end points of the ladder, thinking over, and made an embarrassed chuckle. His throat and lungs tickled at the dry taste of dust.

"My brother and I, we terrorized and burned her flowerbeds when we were younger. I don't think that helps my case." Running his nails over the ridged books as far as he could reach, he attempted to read the titles of the books in the dark. After thirty seconds of staring into daunting blackness, he reached for his wand underneath in his pocket, and pulled it out. "Lumos." He commanded, and the room brightened and materialized as if he lit ten candles. 

Holding the other end of the wand in his mouth while he browsed, his fingers began sliding out books and then returning them. "They wouldn't have much to say of me now. Especially with this... current hiatus to deal with family troubles." Albus glanced below at Gellert who was either plainly staring at his bottom, or staring at the soles of his shoes. Remembering Bathilda, Albus's resolve over encouraging Gellert's attention wavered. 

(What was Albus doing, fooling around like this? Who gave him the right to corrupt this poor boy? After everything Bathilda did for his mother?) 

His eyes caught on a publication by Merlin, and placed it under his shoulder. "I should warn you: I believe your Aunt's planning to get me to rub my good influence on you." Albus descended the ladder, moving his eyesight from the steps to Gellert's face. He made a frown, realizing he never wanted to stop looking at that face. And that bothered him. "The thing is: I really am not a good influence, in any definition of the word." 

Albus was odd – Did he really not know how extraordinary he was? What he could accomplish? Did he not know that everyone expected great things of him? He smiled as he was slowly approaching him. It seemed like Albus didn’t know how much how the people around him appreciated him. He was right about the hiatus though. By the time this year was over most people would have forgotten about the genius boy who had such bright future in front of him.

He could use this, he thought, with a smirk upon his lips. He was impressed by the simple spell – Albus brought such elegance into it. He was very flamboyant, he thought, a show off.

“Oh, she told me to play nice.” He admitted to Albus, and he took a step forwards so that he was in the way for Albus descent down the stairs. Now he was trapped and he looked up at him. “I don’t intend to.” He grinned, and placed his foot on the first step. 

"I'm a clean man on the outside, but I play dirty." Albus admitted, stopping at the middle of the ladder when he saw the younger man was beginning to step on. He returned his wand back to his trousers. "I was very competitive, in school." Albus mentioned off-hand, remembering the times he'd mess up the potions of other students in his second year. His family didn't have the luxury of tutors before he went to Hogwarts, like many of his classmates did at the time. 

Unlike the other subjects, potions was similar to chemistry and required hands-on experience to become well at it. And Albus wasn't well at it at all. After sneaking into the reference section every other day, practicing for half of the school year inside of his cupboard(That's how he set his curtains on fire in his dormitory, like he'd later tell his own students), and watching his potions master after hours, twelve-year-old Albus found he no longer had to do anything to get higher than the class average. By his fourth year, his was invited to the potions club. 

"I'm sure my mistakes are silly, compared to whatever great things you've done." Albus laid his forehead on one step of the ladder, gazing below at Gellert's arms from what little he could see from his position. They had been rolled up, and he admired the fair skinned smoothness, imagining what it'd be like to run his fingers down his arm. Also wondering how he was going to get down, an idea popped into his head: why not try switching sides on the ladder, and getting down like that?

So Albus attempted that, sliding towards the edge of the ladder and then pulling himself towards the other side. A great deal of strain began in his arms and legs, and while making funny faces to deal with the addition of weight to his otherwise healthy bones, he managed to stabilize himself. He slowly tried stepping down despite the incline of the ladder going the opposite direction of his spine, and nearly slipped. When he recovered, Albus laughed a little. "I'm glad that my school, unlike yours, doesn't make combat training mandatory. Or part of the curriculum at all, for that matter." 

Albus was climbing lika a little money - A very clumsy one. It was cute, the way his long legs dangled as he tried to get down on the other side. He was smiling up at him. “You didn’t like not being the most clever in the room.” He deduced, as he watched him. He leaned his head to the side, laughing softly as the other admitted that he wasn’t the most agile. “I wouldn’t have been able to tell that Hogwarts don’t educate acrobats.” He pointed out, sarcasically, and then he moved quickly (Just like one of the acrobats he had spoken about). He caught him before he could correct himself – His hands on his hips. He looked up at him, breathing in his scent. 

“I’m also competitive.” He hummed, pulling at Albus hips softly and pressing his chest against his back. “And I don’t play by the rules.” He purred, leaning in, grazing his nose against Albus jaw. He leaned back, so that he could meet Albus eyes. "I think you're taking water over your head, is that how your saying goes?" He asked. "If you play with fire you might get burned?" 

Albert made a small, startled sound as his felt Gellert snaking his fingers around his hips. When Gellert pressed his chest against his back, his honey-flavored breaths returned to its rightful place: up against his skin, tickling Albus's neck. Albus started to recite a list of cuss words in his head, out of frustration. 

"No matter how much fire you light, a pyromaniac will always be willing engage the flames higher." Albus retorted, shuddering despite the calm tone he used. 

To show his point, he raised his head backwards enough to close the space between his lips and the nook of Gellert's neck. It was a gentle and chaste kiss, as if experimenting the waters. (And if water were involved anywhere else in the conversation, Albus would confirm his head was indeed taken underwater. Or blindly playing with fire, or however else Gellert's metaphor meant.) 

Hearing no protests from Gellert, he made another one higher on his throat. He deepened it, making it a more aggressive sort of kiss. And then he sucked down on the spot, doing it the same way his previous dates in the past had shown him. He intended to leave a mark. Every ten seconds he rotated between kissing and biting, until finally, he withdrew his mouth from Gellert's throat. Gellert first thought that the contact from Albus lips to his neck had been an accident – but soon enough he realized that it was very much on purpose. 

“I’ve never heard that saying before-“ Gellert purred and pressed his chest to his back stronger. 

Acknowledging that Albus wouldn't make it out of this room with his virginity in tact if he stayed any longer, he smiled unabashedly at Gellert. He figured out how he was going to get down from the ladder. He turned his head towards the door, eyeing the book that had unceremoniously fallen to the ground and called out: 

"Ariana! Look at the book I've found!"


	5. Chapter 5

Gellert growled lowly as his lips and his tongue moved over his throat – and his eyes were growing dark with lust. Fingers digging deeper into the garment hiding Albus’ hips, and he was just about to turn his head down and claim those lips – When Albus moved back and smiled up at him. Then Albus voice rang out loud and clear to call his sister to the scene. 

Was this a challenge? It didn’t matter, Gellert wasn’t about to let Albus have the last word (or kiss…). He lifted him down from the ladder, pretending he was just helping him and would let him go. He could feel Albus strain against his fingers as he was on the ground again, going to fetch the book and most likely be ready to show it to his sister when she entered the door. 

He could hear her steps at the stairs, and he turned Albus around with one steady shove of his hips and before the man even had the time to react, he claimed his lips. One hand clasping around his neck, and one on his waist. Lips and tongue and everything. He was counting Ariana’s steps as he kissed Albus, letting him go first when he heard that she was on the top of the stairs and only had the small corridor left.

“Brother? Where are you?” Came her soft and innocent tone, and Gellert smirked up at Albus. He let him go and walked to the door. “Ariana, we’re in here.” He addressed, peeking out of the door as if he hadn’t just snogged her older brother. 

Albus was flustered and out of breath, to say the least. When Ariana entered the room, Albus just waved the book to showcase it to her, as if his condition were caused by the book itself. 

"A... Ariana, it's a reprint of Merlin's." He stammered, like he were in awe and disbelief that Bathilda's library contained such a book. Theatre was not his forte, but he tried to make it convincing. It was such a lie. Albus gazed at the binding, and guessed that the aged-ness of the pages indicated it was 16th Century. "It's amazing, isn't it?" he questioned, passing it over for her to examine. He prayed that the redness in his face was shadowed by the lack of light in the room. His nerves were screaming at him, and his ears were ringing as if a church bell broke but kept clanging.

Ariana giggled a little at Albus's reaction, more carefree after the half glass of rosewater wine and cider she was allowed to consume at dinner. Her mother never allowed her to touch alcohol. In the months before her father went to Azkaban, he drank often and from that point, alcohol was regarded like it was her mother's boggart. "My brother's such a oddity, isn't he?" she asked Bathilda's nephew, flipping through the pages with sloppier care than an adult would ever allow. 

Albus began frowning at the dents she was allowing on the page, calming down a little from before because it bothered him greatly, and made a disapproving sound. "Ari, the page." Oh, he was a big nagger to Abe and Ari whenever he returned from the summer. It was a habit he couldn't stop. 

"Sorry." Ariana said without feeling much sorry at all. It wasn't an original publication by Merlin, but merely a reprint. She knew this because Merlin's creations were always marked with his symbol. She voiced her opinion, one that Albus absentmindedly agreed with(His mind was rarely on Earth, Ariana knew this, especially much so this last month). 

So Ariana's lips twitched up shyly at Gellert. "What do you think of Merlin, Mr. Gellert?"

Albus was wonderfully flustered, not even able to make his sentence as flowing as before. It made Gellert grin widely, knowing that he was single-handedly the culprit. He walked behind Ariana, quite close. She seemed looser than before, not as high strung. He wondered if Bathilda had given her another glass of rose wine when they had been downstairs, or if the glass at dinner had been enough to make such an impact. He could feel it in her magic too – A bit dimmer, and fuzzy around the edges. She was not careful with the book, and it didn’t bother Gellert (He was rarely careful with literature himself, if it broke he could just charm it back together – what was the problem?) but Albus seemed bothered.

It was cute, thought Gellert, smiling. He turned the smile to Ariana and hummed as he pondered. “Well, he was a very great wizard,” He murmured. “It’s interesting how.. how little has changed. Merlin lived in a time where he had to hide his powers, and so do we? Isn’t it a bit silly, hmm?” He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. “Despite his greatness, only we know it’s true. The muggles believe it’s a fairytale” He snorted with a short laugh. “Odd, isn’t it?” His fingers moving over the edge of the book, brushing against Ariana’s fingers. She blushed and bit her lips, visibly not minding the touch. Gellert choose to glance up at Albus then, with a small little smirk. 

The whole room was filled with tension now – Ariana being courted by Gellert, Albus still reeling from the kiss and Gellert somewhere in the middle, the catalyst of it all.  
From the ground floor came Bathilda’s voice, calling them all down there and Gellert guided Ariana down with a hand light on the small of her back, glancing back at Albus from time to time to see his expression. 

Albus narrowed his eyes, watching the man who snogged him minutes before brushing his fingers on Ariana's. When Bathilda called them all over, he also observed Gellert getting his hands comfortable with his sister's waist while they travelled back to the main room. Interested in Albus or not, a man so at ease with touching his younger, baby sister irritated Albus. He noticed the amount of glances the shorter boy was aiming in his direction, and he soon gained a gist on what Gellert was alluding to. Instead of visibly seething(Albus definitely was, on the inside-- but he knew Gellert would win if he showed it), he instead put his efforts in imagining tying up Gellert somewhere and having his way with him. 

He'd roam his hands down his pants, squeezing, pressing. Circling and reaching, yanking and pumping. Pulling his pants and undergarments down, and sucking. Watching him squirm, lightly biting, and flickering his tongue. Telling him he wouldn't get him off unless he screamed Albus's name, and finally, swallowing. He managed to make himself to grin at Gellert and Ariana, as if they'd be a handsome pair. But his head was filled with other ideas.

"Save it for the honeymoon, young ones." He teased. He admitted that they sort of looked good together: they were both fair-skinned, blond, and had a hauntingly beautiful look about them. Unconventionally delicate, in a sense. Intrusive thoughts about how Ariana Grindlewald's married life would be invaded his happier fantasies of screwing Gellert's brains out. If he wanted to see him regularly, wouldn't that be the perfect lie? Bathilda's nephew pretending to be Ariana's spouse? Then, he felt sickened.

He saw flashes of his poor sister living in a large house in Germany, bearing her own children with him and learning his language, and being the sweet delight of Gellert's parents. "Oh, you've softened him! After he was kicked out of school, we had no hope. But look at him now," he'd see her parent-in-laws cooing. He saw the Grindelwalds sending their kids to Bathilda in London for the summer, and that'd be the only way for Albus to see his future nieces and nephews. And sometimes, Gellert would probably visit him on his own just to fool around. Just a casual fuck. 

His shoulders sagged for half a second, his face unread-ably blank. This was depressing to think about. When the three youths traveled their way towards the main room, Bathilda greeted them with hellos and questions and small talk. Albus straightened his back automatically, and gave her a warmer expression. "Why Bathilda, we were just looking for you."

"Albus! How do you like the house?" she asked, and Albus bobbed his head with an impressed nod. It's the house of a scholar or two and absolutely divine, Albus complimented. His examples always added two, and Albus couldn't stand the habit at the moment. Two was a silly number. 

When Bathilda spotted the book Ariana held, she exploded into happy chatter with the youngest Dumbledore. She saw another female historian in the making! Albus meanwhile sensed the stare of her nephew digging a hole into his cranium, his blue eyes similar to surgical tools that planned to cut and remove his sanity. After their discussion, Bathilda finally asked: "What did you boys talk about in the meantime?" 

A light bulb went off in his head. Albus blurted out the first thing that came out of his head, not thinking it through: "Before we looked at the books, Gellert was telling me how... he wished to aid you more in house duties. Particularly, outdoor ones." Ariana and Bathilda's nephew shared puzzled or curious looks, and Albus continued, his head calculating the possibilities more thoroughly: "He was shy to tell you, but he wants to help out. Cutting wood, gardening, purchasing food, collecting your mail from town. Hard-labour." Then, it was Albus's turn to smirk a little. He knew that all of those activities were normally fixed with a flick of the wand, but he mused he wanted to see Gellert try to actually cut wood. Preferably, without his tunic.

Ariana, oblivious to the actual truth of his words, nodded with energy. She clapped her hands together, and used them to poke Albus in the chest. She'd do it while playing tag with him as a kid over the years, and it was comforting to do this even now. She was nervous about something. "Albus knows how to do all of those things. Albus can teach him and help too, in case he needs to be shown." Albus's mind reeled at this suggestion. Ariana glanced particularly at Gellert when she said the next thing: "I could make lemonade, and give it to you all during really hot days. Or rake leaves." She suggested kindly. Albus wished to pull out his hair and laugh, but he did not. Ah, Ariana was cunning in her own way. Pressuring Albus to spend more time with the nephew, so she'd have more time to spend seeing Gellert. He sensed he was on the edge of his plan backfiring. 

It was hard for even Albus to hide his grin, for he was amused at his sister's master plan. Despite the resentment towards his situation, Albus loved his sister dearly. She was simply and smartly adorable. "I don't think Gellert would find use with my weak arms." Albus said without realizing what he said, and he grimaced. He walked into that innuendo. Oh, Gellert would probably find use for his arms somehow, even if he didn't have any. Albus cussed loudly in his head. 

Bathilda suddenly rubbed Albus's arm encouragingly, giving him a soft and patient face. In the back of her mind, she knew that if Albus decided to volunteer around her house, she wouldn't have the need to pay for a gardener at all! She sighed long and loudly, and peered at her nephew, her eyes glinting with shiny glee. He seemed to be friendly to Albus already, so she left it to him to settle the deal. "It's up to my sweet nephew. Gellert, what do you think? Would you find any use for him?" 

Albus eyes were burning into his back - Jealous or only protective of his sister? He guessed both, and smirked again. Despite Albus trying to smooth it over, Gellert could feel that he didn’t like it much – Which made him happy. He grinned at Ariana who was leaning into him as they walked. She was a lot braver after the cider she had consumed. 

Gellert had grinned as Bathilda asked them what they had discussed, and he was tempted to tell her that they’ve been feeling each other up in her library. Tasting each other, and if they would have gotten more time – Maybe they would have done more? Gellert had never before been this interested in sex – Previously he had enjoyed manipulating girls and boys, but the sex hadn’t been interesting. It was the play that had been the good part, but with Albus he was looking forward to take this even further. 

“Oh, yes.” Gellert agreed with Albus. “Yes, you know I can’t concentrate on books for long.” He told Bathilda. “And I thought that you paying for a gardener is silly when you got me.” Bathilda almost beamed at Albus, apparently believing that he had already begun to influence Gellert. “That’s the least I can do for you, great aunt.” He hummed and she cooed. 

“Oh, Gellert. That’s so kind.” Bathilda clasped her hands. She leaned over to Ariana. "Gives you the opportunity to share us your lovely drink recipe, doesn't it?" she suggested slyly, and Gellert nearly rolled his eyes at his aunt. Dear god. 

Ariana piped in and told him she would make lemonade for him – Oh, she was the picture of innocence and he couldn’t tell her that she better not disturb him and her brother, so he nodded. “I would love that Ariana.” Then he turned to Albus. “Even weak arms have purpose,” He pointed out. “And we can discuss while we work, I’m interested in your studies on dragon’s blood that Bathilda told me about. And you’re interested in my studies at Durmstrang.” He smiled. “Two brilliant wizards as ourselves should be able to figure out almost everything, right Albus?”

Albus Dumbledore didn't know this would be the last time to turn back. To just refuse and walk away from Gellert Grindelwald being involved in his life in any way. Instead, thinking he had nothing left to lose(His parents dead, his book pages dented, and his dreams running farther away from him), he welcomed it with wariness and grace.  
He folded his arms into his chest, and made a pondering face. "Hmm... you're going to have to work out more, if I'm going to take you under my wing. Wouldn't need your muscles to go droopy. Not good for the plants. Especially knowing that garden, either of us could get killed out there. It absolutely abhors me, and any poor soul associated with me." Albus commented, glancing from the firm arms under Gellert's tunic to down at his own thinner, lankier arms. He smiled teasingly. "You'll be the brawn, I suppose, and I will be the brains. What a good team." He offered his hand, the same one they both criticized but still found useful, to shake. To friendship, Albus supposed in his mind. If friendship included snogging and giving each other hickeys. 

Gellert grinned at Albus and took his hand firmly in his own. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Albus Dumbledore. I think our friendship will prosper.” He concluded, ignoring the sly comment. Albus was going to regret that later – Or not. At least he was going to be taught who the brain of the relationship really was. He moved back and gave him a short little nod before he leaned down and kissed the back of Ariana’s hand. “And it was a pleasure meeting you to.” He finally addressed, and then straightened up. 

When the two guests had left, Bathilda was almost beaming at Gellert – So happy was she about how well he and Albus did get along! And how she gossiped about how well it was that Ariana seemed to like him as well, and how reclusive she normally was. "Oh, and how happy your mother will be, you making friends. Proper friends, who don't mix with dark magic or soul binding spells. You mustn't go down that path, my nephew. That's why your mum sent you here." It was boring trying to listen to his aunt, so he excused himself and walked upstairs to his room. Nobody wished to listen to the woes of their aunt. Nobody on this bloody Earth. 

All the way back home, Ariana talked about Gellert and his kind great aunt. She wasn't animated, enthusiastic nor obvious about her talking, but she made several indirect ideas: "I don't want to get married until I'm 25," or "I can't believe we were allowed to borrow this book." Then she'd sloppily flip through the pages of Merlin's book once more. Albus noticed thin scratches across the glass and navy-blue colored leather, and he clenched the hand he was holding of hers a little tighter. "Would Gellert be considered handsome to others outside of Godric's Hollow? What about myself? Hell, what about you, Albus?" Adding Albus into the mix was irksome. He just raised a brow, and didn't answer her questions. 

Albus didn't end his suffering by Apparating the two of them back, since he tried that once at their mother's funeral. 

The nausea and motion sickness just upset his sweet little sister more. He forgot that it was extremely unpleasant the first time around. After they walked their way back hand in hand to their side of the neighborhood, Albus took notice of two owls sitting on the post outside of his front door. Attached to them both was a letter. One was decorated in Hogwarts colors and a seal with a D, and the other was a more simpler letter from an E. D. 

Ariana collected the Hogwarts letter, more familiar with that one over her time at home, and petted the white owl under its chin. With her other hand, she used her teeth to open it and a parchment fell out. The bottom was signed by Aberforth. With a happy hum, she beckoned the messenger owl onto her arm and walked inside to read it. 

"Ari, you're not usually supposed to bring them inside." Albus told her, accepting the other letter from the owl with a frown. Its wings were droopy and his head was lowered, as if it were unwell. He gave it some asparagus from the basket of leftovers Bathilda sent home, and making sure Ari wasn't looking, he petted the owl atop its head. On his way inside, he took the letter opener from the key table near the door, along with the other owl and attempted in knifing open the letter while walking to his first aid kit. 

He pulled out the letter and saw it was from Elphias Doge. It read:

"Dear Albus,

It's me, Elphias. I'm terribly sorry to leave you so hastily after tragedy, for comfort isn't my strong point at all. (The closest relative to pass away for me was my grandmother, and I only met her once.) I traveled all the way to Egypt and Persia and India like we planned to, and while there, I could barely focus on the enjoyment. (You may say it's because of the smell of sand, camels, and potatoes following my trail in every country I've been to, and I'll admit, that didn't help to clear my head. I'm allergic to two, and I hate sand venomously.) 

But it was something else. It was wrong, it felt, for me to travel alone where you were supposed to be by my side, as my best friend and travel companion. I haven't gone to Godric's Hollow, but I briefly remember my family passing by on our way towards another village. It seemed to be a very drab, mundane place and I imagine you going crazy. I understand that I cannot rescue you both and bring you along, so I decided to change the route plan and visit you sooner than we agreed upon. After this owl reaches you, I'll probably be a week or two away. (I still wish to finish touring India first, no offence to you.) I will stay as long as it takes for my conscious to be cleared, my friend. 

Take care,  
Elphias." 

Albus blinked a couple times, thinking over this new development as he took out his medicine supplies. A day ago, he would've cheered at something to keep his head occupied. Today, Elphias seemed like a detriment to something, and Abus didn't want to say what he'd be a detriment of. Elphia's presence would be trouble-some, considering the personality of Gellert Grindelwald. Shaking his head, he focused on tending to the owl in front of him(Why did Elphias let it go in such condition? Doesn't he realize owls are sentient?), and allowed Ariana to her own devices about Aberforth's letter.

Ariana prepared to go to bed, after deciding that the messenger owl will stay here for the night. She'd reply to Abe tomorrow, since she didn't necessarily feel like writing back to him yet. (There were many things she didn't feel like doing anymore. A month ago, she would've replied the same hour after getting the owl.) Many days, she didn't even feel like bathing. She made the owl a nest out of straw, bed sheets, and a pillow from her old treasure box. Toys she didn't play with anymore were sprawled across her carpet. Many were dolls that Ariana's mum had made herself, out of cotton fabric and paint. If they were not dolls, then wooden trains or trinkets that her father used to bring. 

The sight of them bothered her, so she threw her comforter-sheet over them. When she set the bird into its bed, the owl thrashed around a bit, before finally settling in. "I know you're a simple-minded bird, despite what Mother said about symbolizing wiseness." The proper word was wisdom, but Ariana didn't bother to correct herself. She fed the bird oats and carrots from the outside barn-pen. 

While watching the owl consume the food like the oats were live worms, she thumbed at its feathers. "Do you ever get tired, little owl? Your entire life, you've flown around to deliver mail. You've never had a chance to do otherwise." she wondered. Then again, an owl wouldn't have many options. It was either to be a messenger, a wild bird or stuck in a muggle zoo. "Why are you imprisoned through /their/ duties? Why must you do this for people, without any choice of the matter?" she asked it. Ariana's own duty was to be secluded away, so she wouldn't hurt anyone. She didn't agree with that notion.


	6. Chapter 6

After the owl finished eating, it just jerked its head to curiously regard Ariana. With its silence(Owls couldn't talk so she didn't expect anything less, of course), she gave it one last pat before climbing into her mattress. Her body was engulfed into the pillows and blankets, and thought about the years she had missed. She would've been at Hogwarts for most of them, and should have been at Hogwarts. She imagined the friends she'd have, the conversations she'd have on the train to there(That was the only thing she'd ever get to glimpse of Hogwarts - the train), and the classes.

Was her life surely over, now? Like the owl, would she have to spend the rest of her years tied to the life their owners/guardians gave them? Similar to her mother, would she one day find herself grow wrinkles and gray hairs over time spent in this sad neighborhood? She imagined herself dying like her mother, on her own violent vocation. Or would she learn that she would soon grow old, and have nothing to show for it except destruction? Her parallel life, the ones she saw in her daydreams, that was the one she'd only want get out of bed for. 

She saw herself having crazy stories to tell of her time there, like Abe. Having arguments with her dorm mates, having crushes on Slytherin boys, learning how to fly a broomstick. Having good teachers, bad teachers. Spending the years, eventually graduating along with her friends, to move on from the life that school had given her an identity of. She saw her parents, cheering for her while she accepted her diploma. Tears were collecting at the corner of her eyes, but this time, it wasn't because of her mother. Basically: she wished to have Albus's current life. 

(Well, minus the Slytherin boys. I don't think Albus feels that way towards boys. Or anybody, according to his declaration of celibacy.) 

Ariana laughed despite the wetness of her face, and shook her head. "I may have lost the years behind me, but I can do much with the ones I have ahead." She whispered to the candles she leaned over, on the side of the bed. "That's it. No more moping. I will ask Al what is needed in order for me to leave Godric's Hollow." The owl's face had twisted and turned its way towards her, its glowing eyes reminding her of their current place in the world. She stared at her hands, the ones that tore apart her family with her instability. 

"For the greater good." And with that, she blew out the candles and went to sleep. 

Gellert laid down in his bed, his locks sprawling on the pillow underneath him. He was grinning to himself – This fall might not be as dull as he had imagined. Not with Albus Dumbledore in close proximity. Everything had moved wonderfully fast – Which was the preferred speed of Gellert Grindelwald. He relived their play; From the timid teasing, to the more bolder touches and at last the kiss. He had surprised Albus then, he was sure. He had seen it in his eyes as he had pulled back. His lips slightly puffed, his eyes wide, almost clinging on Gellert. He looked so submissive like that, Gellert thought and moved over to his side. 

It might be very interesting, he just needed to figure out a way to keep the little girl out of his way most of the time without having to break her heart. He would figure something out, he was sure. 

Exactly two days after the dinner party at Bathilda's, Albus was recruited for the mess he started: helping Bathilda around her house, alone with the one and only Gellert Grindelwald. He had fallen asleep the night before at the dining table within his small home, his head buried under his arms. His face pressed onto a pile of open textbooks. Specifically, his old schoolbooks. Albus was reading over them, for Ariana. He decided he'd like to teach her a bit of what he learnt at Hogwarts. 

He was interrupted from his sleep by a, "Albus?" His sister. 

Then, the sound of footsteps pattering on the wood and a deeper male voice: "Morning, Albus. My Aunt would like to know if you're... hmm? He's asleep." 

Albus was knee-deep in his light snores and his dreaming and his planning, asleep and still muttering curriculum that he could drill his sister on. A week ago, it would've been nonsense to him: tutor the girl, already thirteen or fourteen-years-old in age? Past the age of discipline? 

But then his young sister had came to him yesterday, in the afternoon, with her sleeping gown still on and the owl enclosed and woven into her lanky arms. Her arms were thin enough that Albus imagined it easy to splinter them. This thought made him glare at the owl all the much more. Owls had a tendency in being messy, destructive and violent when provoked. But from Ariana's experience with messenger owls, she treated them like any other creature. 

So Ariana came to her eldest brother the other day, her face glued into a mask of caution. Her shoulders were tense and her eyes were sharp, preparing for a snap or hook of some kind. She approached him like she would approach their mother and stated: "Brother, we need to talk." Albus sighed. He pushed aside the letters he was writing back to Aberforth and Elphias, and with a crease in his forehead, he nodded at her with his up most, quite begrudged attention. 

Ariana averted her eyes back to the owl, who closed its eyes at the warmth her arms provided. "I don't want to be a danger to others. I want to get better, brother." His lip quivered, in surprise. Albus would've expected any other topic for her to bring up, but not that one. She then declared: "I want to leave this place." He froze, the quill in his hand dropping back into the ink jar. He swallowed his breath. 

They stayed there in a minute of pure silence, with Ariana shifting on her feet uncomfortably. Squirming, waiting for his answer. He lifted his free arm to scratch under the owl's ear tufts. He bit his lip. "Ariana, I'm bright, but I am not... I'm not God, if such a being exists. I do not know if there's a way." Albus murmured, now having an overwhelming urge to scream at his mother's grave. He wished to throw glass and shredded flowers and trash, in the same way Aberforth performed vandalism on people. 'We should've brought her to the hospital, Mum! It was the proper thing to do,' he'd cry. The bystanders would think Albus a madman if he did that, but he was close to the definition already.

Ariana blew a calm breath over the messenger's nose, and it twitched and the owl opened an eye. She smiled. "Even if there is no way, I'd wish for you to find an answer. When Abe comes home, you're going to go with Elphias, aren't you? You're going to travel. I'll stay here, and you can search for me. Search on how to fix my condition. Cure me, Al. If anyone on this planet can, it'd be you." At this, Albus drew his hand away to fold his arms across his chest. He peered at the finished letter he wrote to the very E. Doge. 

He observed his sister, and saw the way her face fell at his stance. An idea came to him. "Elphias is coming in a week. Why don't we all go, together?" he asked. This was a ruse. Albus wasn't serious, but he wanted to see her reaction. Instead of being enthusiastic, she paled and her mouth fell open, idle and unresponsive. So Albus pushed. "Don't you believe there's a cure, Ari? Otherwise, why not we all go now?" he asked. 

Her voice raised, stammering and tripping over her words. "Al, I do! How dare you say I don't?" she voiced harshly and childishly, the full tone of age showing. The owl bobbed its head up defensively, its eyes blinking awake and its wings rising at the atmosphere. Albus realized his sister was walking a fine line, a few hairs away from snapping out of control. She poked an indignant finger at his chest. "That's the only thing..." she started. 

Albus breathed evenly. "The only thing what?" 

In a quieter tone, with the bags and the grayness under her eyes becoming more evident, she admitted: "That makes me... want to remain alive. I'm not happy, Albus. I know you're trying, but I don't want to be alive anymore. Not without mum. It hurts, Al. It hurts because one day, you'll be gone too." 

That statement terrified Albus. 

After giving her and the damned owl a hug, he immediately started work on something to distract his sister. He brought her to his room and he began shuffling through his papers, his board games, his supplies, anything. And then he dropped his Year 1 spell book, a torn and beaten old thing from nearly a decade ago. It struck him: tutoring. What else could they do while they were tied to Godric's Hollow for the next 1095 days? (Yes, he counted. Everyday. Sometimes, twice a day.)

All night he drafted a curriculum, nearly burning his hair under the candle light. His finger tips cracked and dried as he flipped through hundreds of pages for hours. Many of his books lacked a Table of Contents, but he continued on. After a while, the peeks of day speared through the kitchen window. He slowly dozed off, where his body caught up him with him and allowed him rest. 

And thus, it brought all three of them to the present time. 

"My brother decided that he was going to formerly train me." Ariana explained, now today, seeing Gellert raise his brows at the varied level of textbooks Albus laid in front of him. "He's bothered our mother never tried, so it took it upon himself. And my brother Abe refused after..." After the incident, but she didn't need to say this. Sighting a brown feather on the sleeping boy, Ariana plucked it from Albus's collar with a frown. The owls were sent out yesterday after their conversation, but the absence of them from her arms unsettled her. She beamed at the German wizard regardless. "Albus wants to be a great wizard someday, but maybe after I'm done, I'll be greater wizard than he." 

"Witch. You're not a wizard. Feminine form, Ari," Albus's sleepy voice slurred.

The Dumbledore home was a bit smaller than Bathilda’s, both messier and dirtier as well. But it was a home, and the siblings were sitting on the floor of the living room. Ariana having almost thrown herself up on her feet, brushing off her dress trying to look respectable. However Gellert was more interested in the young man leaning against the couch, where he sat on the carpet. His auburn hair pulled back in a ribbon, because he didn’t want it getting into his eyes – Gellert thought. He looked tired, Albus, yawning and eyes drowsy. 

“Well, my aunt told me we got work to do.” He looked over at Albus, and gave him a wink. “She wants us to tidy up in her garden, in the edge of it a tree has fallen.” He shrugged, and kissed the top of Ariana’s head. “I’m sorry that you can’t come with us, but I’ll bring Albus back around lunch.” He promised, smiling. 

"Ari, if I haven't returned, send for help. Knowing our track record, the tree may come alive and declare an enemy of me." Albus joked, folding the book atop of his lap closed and handing it to her. "If you wish, look through my old books and tell me what interests you." Albus tasked her with, knowing that allowing her hours by herself like he gave her wouldn't do anymore. He refused to lose his sister to the throes of boredom. He leaned up to kiss her head, replacing the spot Gellert had placed his mouth. He turned his face over at the younger man as he drew away from his sister, smiling at him. He climbed out of his seat and stretched the sleepiness out of his arms. 

"Good morning, Gellert." He greeted, stretching the last syllable of his name the same way he dreamed of humming, if they ever kissed again. He ambled his legs towards the stove counter, pocketed his wand from there and lead the way outside. 

Gellert held out his arm for Albus and led him outside. It was a nice day – The sun high up in the sky and warming their skin. However, a chill breeze cooled their fingers and played with their hair as they walked and the trees were getting sulkier, their leaves having lost the vibrant green colour and was slowly turning brown and yellow. Fall was on its way. He glanced up at Albus, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

“Such chivalry, teaching your sister magic.” He remarked as he directed him tp Bathilda’s garden and towards the edge of it, which ended in the forest – The trees tall and dark. “A fruitless pursuit I would imagine. She’s powerless to control it, isn’t she?” He continued, and grinned. “Don’t look at me like that, Bathilda didn’t tell me. Can’t you feel it when you are around her? Her magic is wild.” He acknowledged, and moved into the forest. No fallen tree in sight. “Untamed, like a child’s. Something happened to her, didn’t it?” He asked curiously. 

"Many would say learning Latin is a fruitless endeavor, for the language circulates no longer." Albus asserted, the warmth of his arm linked aside Gellert's as foreign to him as the foreigner he spoke to. This close in, he noted the scent of Gellert's clothes: soap, sweet skin, and flowers. Not a surprise: Bathilda's house was filled with roses, placed in nearly every vase. He thanked fate that nobody around had pollen allergies. Albus took in the surroundings of the garden, finding it both familiar and different than he last saw it: the same dark, looming trees of oak and pine nut stood as characteristic as the sun, yet the vine fences for the growing vegetables and the sunflowers were new. 

He continued: "Still so... wizards still find use in the language, when ancient spell books are shown to light, or to better understand the past." Albus reasoned, making a hesitant pout at the criticism. Then, he shook his head. "'Something happened to her' is an understatement. And, the same could be said for you." Albus's blue eyes were questioning. 

Durmstrang.

Gellert turned towards him. He sounded protective of his younger sister, maybe that wasn't odd. He smiled up at him and leaned against the trunk of one of the large oak trees - whose crown protected everything around them from supervision. He grinned. "Oh, Durmstrang didn't do anything to me" He hummed, shaking his head. 

"I was the one who did something to Durmstrang" He corrected him. This was the third time Albus had shown interest in what had happened at Durmstrang, and they had only known each other for a day. He guessed that he was curious - But Gellert knew he would be horrified if he knew to what extent Gellert had brought his experiments. 

Albus shrugged. "Durmstrang did do something. It gave you opportunity to do what you wanted." Albus guessed, walking over to the fallen over tree in the garden Gellert had mentioned. It was a young tree, perhaps only a decade old or less, and half of it was split in half. Its branches and leaves and trunk were soaken in water from the earlier thunderstorm, leaving the wood rubbery and weak. 

Albus bit the inside of his gums, where Gellert couldn't notice much as a gesture unless he saw his cheeks move. "While over there, science probably wasn't the only thing you experimented on, I suppose? What an ambitious bloke, you are." The boy winked. Then, he bent down to examine the damage of the plant. He ran his thumb over the wood, and could feel the enchanted tree tense tighter into its frozen daytime state. The trees in magical areas normally moved whenever they wished, but Godric's Hollow was a mixed neighborhood. All trees that were animated waited until the darkness of night, so that if muggles heard the bushes or branches rattle, they'd assume it was a squirrel. 

The wood was not only wet but had burnt marks as well, black sin-ging coloring the edges. He heard the tree sizzling in frustration, coping with the pain. To relieve it temporarily, he carefully pulled up the broken shafts of the tree and took tape from the basket of garden supplies, using the tape to support the weight. "If we mend it with a spell, it could potentially spasm later as a side-effect until it heals. Would your aunt mind that?" Albus asked, his back turned away from the boy. 

Gellert let Albus look over the tree, and was grinning inwardly. Poor Albus hadn’t figured out that it wasn’t a lightening that had surged through it and crippled it. He was pretty proud over his work. “My aunt wouldn’t care” He hummed. “She doesn’t know that its hurt, so I doubt that she will care” He admitted, grinning up at him – still resting his back against the trunk of the large powerful oak. He tiled his head to the side to observe the other’s reaction to that. 

Slowly he pushed himself off from the trunk, moving closer to Albus again. Like a predator inching closer to his prey. 

“I experimented a lot at Durmstrang, you are right.” He pointed out. “Though,” He placed his hand on the other’s chest, splaying his fingers out like branches from a tree. “I think we have one area that we both haven’t explored enough.”

"Perhaps you're right." The other boy agreed. Albus snaked an arm between Gellert's arms, his slender fingers tugging on the shorter boy's collar. Forward he pulled him, smiling. He bent down his head. His eyes searched for the spot he marked, as did his eyes glaze over the bare skin. (This is wrong, to lust like I do towards this Gellert Grindelward. But the urge to capture his lips, hear his voice... the desire to make him weep fuels me so.) The weeping, of course, meant fucking his wits off. Until the tears were involuntary, like an accidental occurrence for the human body when it reached its limit. 

Then, he nearly blanched at himself. Inwardly, he wished to smack himself. What compelled him to these odd thoughts? Why was his first knee jerk reaction to a crush to react in such an obscene way? 

Albus shuddered at this, trying to push these thoughts away. He wasn't sure if it was even possible for Gellert to cry(Some wizards claimed they could not, but Albus thought it was silly lore. Let's see). He soon found the mark under a piece of silk cloth under Gellert's collar, normally used for decorative handkerchiefs for the shirt. The swelling had gone away, the chipped skin was healing and the redness had faded to a blue-ish and purple color. 

"You hid away my claim on you, didn't you." Albus teased, pressing a chaste kiss on the spot. His hand at the same time traveled to Gellert's thigh, briefly brushing upon the inner part of his pants. He lingered there, his blue eyes meeting Gellert's, both of them bright, sweet and alluring under the sun. He gave his thigh a pinching squeeze. 

Then he pulled away, laughing wholeheartedly and escaping deeper into the garden. 

He felt the other's arm like a serpent moving to pull at his collar. He didn't fight it much, nor pressed up against him. Albus straight nose moved over his chin as he was examining his neck. When Gellert closed his eyes he could feel the other's presence - feel his dark thoughts. Gellert was sure Albus was trained in Occlumency, because he couldn't get a clear picture. He could feel that they were sexual, but also dark. Did Albus want to hurt him? He glanced up at him, those baby-blue eyes was possessively scanning his neck. He giggled. "Your claim?" He asked, searching his eyes again. The other undeniably had some fantasies about him - Wanting to dominate him, like an uncivilized animal.

He felt Albus soft hand over his thigh turn into a quick pinch before pulling away. Gellert couldn't deny that he was curious. Bathilda painted the picture of Albus as a calm, young man who was considerate and modest, and very polite (Especially for his brightness). Where ever he turned everyone seemed to like this young man - Always praise about him on their lips. No one said anything about an underlining of aggression or a need to dominate. Albus seemed to have them all fooled, and this interested Gellert greatly. Because despite people calling Gellert great, bright and alluring - they didn't call him modest or try to claim that he was harmless! 

Gellert moved easily through the garden after him as he decided to provoke him. "Who said anything about claim. Hmm? We could have fun, but it'll be just that. Fun." But his eyes were on Albus, trying to see how he would react. He had no interest in anyone else, but he didn't want to give Albus what he wanted without a fight. He wanted to see him fight for dominance. 

Albus paused, stretching the corners of his mouth upwards in a mechanical way. "Who said a person wished it any other way?" he defended, a little too hastily. His face involuntarily colored into a reddish shade. With the harsh rays of the sun hazing through the fields, Albus tried to convince himself that he was merely getting a sunburn. "Yet, companionship is a brave thing to accomplish. Do admit that, Gellert." His eyes flickered briefly towards him and then to his mouth when he voiced his name, until they approached another damaged tree.

Similar to the one before, it was burnt and singed. Its base flimsily held its own weight, the assumed thunderstorm having thinned the tree bare. The once-vibrant green leaves were smoked and ash-y, and the branches were scattered and broken among the ground like chips of a withering pine tree. Albus couldn't imagine another strike of lightning doing this. Once was unusual, but the odds of two within the same range of about twenty feet? He lifted his head to observe the other trees within the range of her house's botanical limits. 

Every thirty to fifty feet, the remains of a fire-smoldered tree would stand in randomized, somewhat strategic locations. Specifically, places with shade and other trees that would block it off from view. Albus's smile was genuine now, and his blue sight-orbs twinkled. "Gellert, would you say there are far too many trees here? Crowds up the garden, yes?" he commented, poking around his own mind to remember old spells from much-dreaded Herbology lessons. 

Spotting one of the only patches of life left into the tree(A small coloring of green, near the roots that did survive), he lowered himself to the poor thing. At first he was going to grab for his wand, until an idea of practising something crossed his head. He lifted his hand over the green, wandless. He attempted to blank his mind, to focus despite the lingering presence of the other wizard. He concentrated on hardening the magic that flowed through him towards that particular area, flowing through his bloodstream and oozing on an invisible spectrum. 

"Herba curatio." He recited.

The plant sprouted at once, small vines and stems pushing out and into motion. The process was slow, but Albus watched as the sprout grew into a healthy, much larger one, and then expanded like a balloon. Peeks of wood crawled through the edges of its layers, and then the wood grew in spurts of growth. Two minutes in, and it grew one meter. Five minutes in, and it had reached three meters. Ten minutes in, it reached five meters. Then, ten. Albus was grinning like a madman. 

But, it wouldn't stop. Fifteen. Twenty. Albus's face started to pale. Albus commanded it to stop, even going so far as pulling out his wand, but to no avail. At twenty five meters, Albus hid his face in his hands, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh my, this is embarrassing." He murmured. 

Albus was quick on his defense, but it only brought a smile onto Gellert’s soft lips. Companionship, Brave? He gave a short chuckle. “I’ll admit that it is brave – As in, foolish.” He retorted as he walked over to the other. “Enemies will use your loved ones against you, which is why it's foolish to do so in the first place.” He pointed out. He grinned when he saw that Albus had noticed the patterns of the ‘lightening strikes’. Oh, good. His lips stretched into a knowing smirk, and he nonchalantly leaned against the trunk of one of the healthier trees. 

He let his eyes follow Albus as he leaned down, tilting his head to the side and were quite obviously checking out the other’s ass. However, when the other didn’t reach for his wand he leaned forward himself. Curious. 

Magic without wands was… well, complicated. It was considered reckless and brutish. He could feel the aura around them tense, as the seed grew. The spell hooking into Albus magic stream – Drinking it up as it grew with increasing speed. Gellert grinned when the other lost control. 

With surprising calm, he moved closer to the over-grown sprout. He placed his palm against it, and could feel the magic buzzing there. The spell must have tapped into Albus magic too strongly. He closed his eyes and with his exhalation he let his own energy enter it. 

First the plant stopped growing, and then small blotches started to appear. Tiny black dots, that grew. Decay seemed to be eating up the trunk from the inside. From the top it withered – Shedding small pieces and letting them rain over the two young wizards. He turned towards Albus again as the plant was dying behind him. He placed his hand on the other’s neck, pulled him down to his level and moved in as if he was about to kiss him. 

Instead he whispered, so close to the other’s lips. “I’m tired of this game, Albus.” His whisper was almost threatening, a low purr. “We both know what we want. We’re both brilliant.” A little smile crept upon his lips again. “I’m pretty sure you can figure out what I want you to do to me.” He added, teasingly. The plant was still dying, pieces of it falling all around them.


	7. Chapter 7

Albus swallowed air and smoke, eyes burning up at tingling of pollution that surrounded the two boys. His blue eyes remained glossy from the rain of debris. He himself had defaulted to squinting in disbelief and awe when the German wizard burnt the tree. His knee-jerk reaction was to be irritated, but the destruction had its own distinct beauty to it: He barely registered the words coming out of Gellert's lips, but his ears caught enough despite being distracted by Gellert's mouth regardless whether he was talking or not. 

Then, Gellert's words finally rung through Albus's head. Albus had raised his brows nonetheless, but his body shivered warmly in response to Gellert's confession. As if the boy was a furnace, and Albus was about to be pushed into oblivion and fire. Except Albus wanted this, badly. He looked away from the tree trunk, the only thing to remain out of the dead evergreen. Even then, red ember heat singe-d he trunk like a stove lid that had got heated with gas and recently got turned off. His head lowered down from nature back to the boy who intrigued him. 

'Since when did Hansel ever give himself up willingly?', Albus wondered with a half-sullen look. He compared Ariana to Gretel, and the folktale's food-giving witch as Bathilda(Minus the cannibalism). But, Gellert was the furnace. He was the fear, the intimidation, the power that controlled the children and the witch. But Hansel was cleverer than the witch. 'Yet, Hansel never faced the furnace head on,' Albus added inwardly, before shaking his head to clear the nonsense he was thinking of. Using German fairy tales as comparison to his life? Oh, Gellert was already effecting his life and he hadn't known the boy long in the slightest. He had to put his foot down. 

The responsible thing would be to politely decline his advances. To ignore them, or feign innocence. But he had to admit: he was dangerously attracted to the other wizard. All the same, he wished to give Gellert a taste of his own game.

"We are both brilliant, yes, but unwise if we were to mindlessly fool around." Albus voiced in a lower, unwavering and somewhat coy tone. He straightened his shoulders and drew away. At Gellert's look of either anger or confusion, Albus hummed to himself and walked around the boy, observing him and admiring him. Scrutinizing, even. "There has to be rules. I already have an idea for the first. One: do not get caught. The earliest to slip up takes the social downfall." Albus supplied thoughtfully, his eyes focused on the other boy's soft blond hair. Strands breezed and tangled with the wind, the outer layer smocked with ashes. He reached out with gentle fingers to pick ash from Gellert's hair. "Two: Ariana mustn't know. I'm afraid she fancies you." At this rule, Albus's tone didn't bother hiding the distaste and sensitivity of the subject. 

His fingers guided away from Gellert's hair but down his neck, and then to his back. His fingers soon found themselves tugging the edges of the wizard's tunic. His eyes hungrily took in the peeks of skin under his shirt. "I would not want anyone to get confused about whom you'd belong to. But the real answer is, that you probably belong to no one but yourself." Albus breathed huskily and a bit deeper than before. The shirt was made out of wool and cotton, and was rough under his touch. His hand slipped under the tunic towards the side of the wizard's trousers. His thin fingers reached and pressed on Gellert's hip bone. 

With a throaty growl, Albus delved his head down to kiss him, but deliberately missed his lips for his cheek. His mouth lingered there on his cheekbone, Gellert's skin burning Albus the same way he'd imagine it burning Hansel's, if he kissed the same oven that almost killed his sister. Albus slipped his hand out of his trousers, and withdrew his arms to grasp his shoulders. "Third rule: since we're both intellectuals, I'd like to debate. I want to hear your opinions on the world. The good views, the ugly ones, the cruel. All of them, Gellert. Even if you feel the need to interupt my sleep with an owl in the middle of the night." He requested. Then, he lowered himself to the ground, arms still on Gellert's shoulder and guiding him downwards with him. When they finally descended, they laid against the curved remains of the tree trunk. He also used his knee to tease the inner crook of Gellert's pants. He moved to hold Gellert's face, his eyes glinting and playful. "Though if you wake me too often, I'll be tempted to murder you. Plausibly involving the furnace in the process." He teased, more amused at his own inside joke. Ah, symbolism. 

"Now, I have a proposition for you, Gellert. One that only lasts for today." Albus started, lightly brushing Gellert's bottom lip with his thumb. Sensing what he assumed was curiosity on the German wizard's face, he continued. "If you're willing to accept those rules, and give up just one thing here, I'll submit to you for the next 24 hours." To show his point, he backed off and sat beside Gellert on the grass. He lowered himself until he was laying on his back, his arms spread and limp to show no resistence. He closed his eyes, and smiled. "Anything you desire of me besides something harmful to others, offensive to Ariana or illegal, I'll follow through with it. Romantically or not." He pulled his arms to his stomach, and folded his fingers onto his belly. He opened one eye. "Now, as for your sacrifice: Durmstrang."

Gellert let the other pull him down with him. Their cloaks were getting dirty as they lay in the debris. He moved his hands down to the other’s waist – He had a surprisingly slender one, almost as thin as a girl’s. He imagined that the skin underneath the cloak was soft, and he buried his fingers in the thick garment. Gellert thought that rules were boring, and he made a soft little grimace. He leaned in and nibbled at the other’s neck – Nipped at his jaw. “If one is ‘do not get caught’ doesn’t that entail that we don’t tell your sweet darling sister?” He hummed, almost like a purr. “Don’t worry Albus. People don’t see what they don’t want to see” He assured him. “And you’re such a good boy, no one wants to believe that you secretly is pining for a german warlock” He pointed out as Albus leaned down to kiss him. He opened his mouth and claimed his lips back. 

“I’ll tell you anything. In due time." He promised, letting his fingers play with the hem of his shirt, trying to find a way to feel the other’s naked skin. His skin was hot – He hadn’t been this.. involved with anyone before. Yes, he had teased them, lured them in, made them do as he wished. But he had never dared anyone to claim him, to try to dominate him as he was doing now. He enjoyed the struggle between them. He almost whined when Albus pulled away – If he hadn’t been Gellert Grindlewald, he maybe had whined. A soft tender noise. 

The other was laying back against the grass. He talked a lot, Gellert noticed and grinned. As Albus voice died away he laughed gingerly. “Nothing illegal?” He purred, as he crawled closer until he was moving over the other. He leaned down, so close that they were almost kissing moving his nose against Albus’. “This is illegal Albus.” He purred. “In my country, we would be penalized to death for lusting for another man." He hummed, observing the other with his light eyes. “And maybe it’s not like that in the wizarding community here, but – In the muggle world, we wouldn’t be accepted-“ His hands moved over the other’s closed ones, and pulled them apart, intertwining their own fingers.   
“And nevertheless, I don’t want a doll-“ He pointed out. “I can already get a doll, I could march down into the muggle village next door and get a much prettier boy to submit to me. “ He wondered how Albus would take not being called the prettiest, and he smirked. “I don’t want to claim anyone who lets me do it.” He growled. 

"Then, I suppose I need to figure out other ways to find out what's so bad about Durmstrang." Albus agreed with a wink, sitting up and pulling their intertwined fingers towards his mouth. "Besides, it makes this situation a good amount more fun, I believe? To be the chaser." He kissed and nipped in between the folds of Gellert's fingers, near the knuckles of his hand. 

With girls, Albus was used to being the doll--but it would never last long, nor go past kissing. They'd kiss him lamely until he'd attempt to read. Most just got angry and left. Speaking of which, the reason he ever went on the dates anyway was because of Elphias. Good natured Elphias would pressure Albus to come along, since most parents in the wizard community won't allow non-courting aged girls to go on anything but a double date. While his friend sneaked off to screw with his own lady, Albus just enjoyed the food. 

'Note to self: when Elphias comes to visit, avoid taverns or bars at the local village. He'd just try setting me up with some poor girl. And now I'm of age, he'd be more adamant. Dear Merlin.' Albus figured, drawing his mouth away and focusing on the boy above him. This was what made Albus happy. There hasn't been a dull moment with Gellert since he's met him. And if there ever were, Albus would not mind in the least. 

He gently guided Gellert's arms to his sides, kissing his forehead chastely and tenderly. "I may not be the prettiest, but I have a very dark mind. And this mind is imagining how it'd be to tie you up. To hear you say my name. To bite into your throat until you bleed." Then, with a force he never normally exerted, he pulled the other boy around until Albus was over him. His fingers pressed into the German wizard's waist, and he lifted himself to straddle and sit over Gellert's hips. "To see you cry. To see you come undone. To tell me what mark you want to leave on this planet. That's what I desire." He finished, before finally coming down on him to capture his mouth.

Gellert turned his head to the side as he looked at Albus, pulling his slender fingers through the other’s auburn hair. Albus was so curious about Durmstrang and so eager to prove that he wouldn’t reject Gellert’s darker side. He smiled as Albus moved his mouth along his fingers and knuckles. They were quite cold, but his breath was warm. 

“You’re not the chaser-“ He said, his tone low and husky as he leaned against him for another kiss. “We are merely… well, equals.” He growled, his accent more prominent now than ever before. He was quite aware that he had never been this… attracted before. Not this involved. He had always managed to keep a step away. Albus pushed him down into the remains of the trunk and he looked up at him. These words were nothing new – People had always wanted to claim Gellert. To mark him. To ‘steal’ his innocence, though it had already been long gone. 

He had been exceptionally pretty even as a young boy. Slender, but strong, golden locks and wide green eyes. Since the day he had been shipped off to Durmstrang suitors had tried to claim him: Some had a more violent approach than others. But it was exciting hearing the words come from Albus tender lips – Firstly, because no one in a long time had dared treating Gellert like that. Secondly, the other was so calm usually. He craned his head back, exposing his neck for the other willingly. “You talk big.“ He snapped, looking at him. “Is that really what you want?” 

He craned his head back even more, emitting a high-pitched moan. “Oh, Albus~” He cooed, panting as if Albus was doing more intense things to him and holding him down. “Please-please-“ He let out a half-sob, glancing up at the other – Mouth open, eyes watery with tears, lips quivering, cheeks blooming. Then it fell into a smirk. “Is that what you want?” He buried his fingers into Albus shirt. "Me, begging for you?" He purred, reaching up for him. "How will you ever know that it's real." He whispered, cruelly and excess tear faliing from his eye without him noticing. 

Albus's body stilled, and he stared dead-panned at Gellert for a couple moments, face guarded and heart pumping. He smelled the faint smell of honey, wet grass and chamomile again, under Gellert's collar and in his hair. His face faintly blushed at the ease Gellert had at 'giving him what he wanted', and mocking him so for it.

Then, after too many seconds like this, Albus burst out laughing. He tried to lazily wipe the stray tear with his cuff sleeve, but just brushed it with the inner of his elbow and slid his arms around Gellert's shoulders. He buried his laughter into the nook of Gellert's neck, hiding his face as he glances sideways. The remaining ashes of the burnt ever green finally all made it to the ground. 

"We are truly equals, aren't we? Strange, that. I don't wish to sound egotistical, but until you, I haven't encountered this. Either they were beyond my power, or below it. It didn't seem worthy enough to actually go beyond superficial means of companionship. But most importantly, it was intriguing seeing you react that way." He hummed, turning his head back to Gellert. 

He lowered his head to kiss deep into Gellert's Adam's Apple. When he came up for air, his eyes were hazy and darker. "I'm glad to have found you." Then, he gave him room and Albus rubbed his own neck sheepishly, gazing at the sky. The sun was in full circle, completely and utterly bright, making the humid day hot and drying the morning dew around the gardens. The trees that did survive managed to shade the two wizards decently enough. 

"I apologize if I offended you. This is... new to me. Yes, I want you to beg, but because you want to. Not to force, but to allow. I don't only want tears, I want laughter as well. Your smiles, your sighs, to see you on top of the world." Then, he lifted a thumb to press on Gellert's temple. He tapped it gingerly, because he didn't want him to assume he was trying to get inside his head. "Regardless of your body, this is the gold. I want your thoughts, and your plans. You fascinate me, Gellert Grindelwald."


	8. Chapter 8

Gellert looked up at Albus with an interesting gaze. Albus seemed shocked, but – with his hand wrapped around his wrist, he could feel his heart beat faster. So it must have had some sort of effect. Then Albus laughed and fell onto his chest, kissing his neck. Brushing his cheek so tenderly. For a moment Gellert didn’t know how to act. But he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist, and smiled with him. Chuckling softly. 

He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around this man. Every time he did something that would normally in his eyes be a sign of weakness, it seemed to strengthen him. Gellert had always thought that people who said ‘weakness is a strength’ was stupid, but with Albus… it was kind of true. He could show his more tender sides without seeming weak. 

Gellert turned his head to the side and kissed Albus softly this time. Deep and passionate, but more carefully. Not as desperate. When he pulled away he looked up at him. “This’ll be an interesting fall” he hummed. “You are the most intriguing person I’ve met in a long time, Albus Dumbledore.” 

Albus's eyes gleamed lightly with curiosity, ignoring the light-headedness that came with kissing someone that made his head spin. New experiences were a feast to a scientist's brain, after all. He felt a bubble emerging through his chest at the thought of sharing a dozen more of them. "Who is the most intriguing person you've met, in that case?" he questioned, genuinely wondering about the sort of people Gellert Grindelwald had met, and to some extent, some of his history. 

Bathilda had more than a decade's worth of information of Albus to supply anyone willing to hear. And what would they hear? How he chased rabbits as a child and stole her apple pies? That wasn't fascinating! Albus didn't believe he himself was interesting at all. Merlin defeated a dragon by the age of fourteen, in his time. At the back of his head, he thought: 

It's only a matter of time before he realizes I'm actually dull? 

(Another voice said: You're not dull. You have six papers published in wizarding science journals, you've discovered seven uses of dragon's blood at the age of fifteen, you're a member of the International Confederation of wizards by seventeen, and you're leaving to travel the world the week Aberforth graduates.)

It still felt empty, these accomplishments. 

And then, he heard the rustling sound of bushes and trees around the corner from where they sat. They were hidden behind a thick, wide tree that blocked the now distant sidev iew of Bathilda's house, but it didn't stop Albus from tensing up. Albus sprung up immediately, and fingered the wand that stuck out from his pocket warily. "Ariana?" he called out, but instead, a very small rabbit crawled out of the bushes. It gave the two boys a very long, deer-caught-in-headlights sort of stare, before it promptly ran off. 

Albus grinned. "When I was little, I used to catch them and change the colors of their fur, to annoy your aunt." 

He could sense that Albus was being a bit, was jealous the right word? It was clear that he didn't like whoever topped Gellert's most fascinating person-list. Gellert laughed tilting his head to the side and glanced at him. "So competitive," He purred, moving a hand from his hair down his graceful neck to his shoulder. Fingers slipping to his collarbones, feeling the friction as he slid his fingertips over his chest. Down to feel the curve of his waist, resting there, digging in the garment. He could feel the other tense, and perked his head up to listen to the soft ruffle.

Albus jumped away from him, with impressive agility. Calling out his sister's name. So afraid of getting caught. He let his eyes rest upon the other but not moving to sit up or reach after him. He would have fun with that, he promised himself. 

"You don't want your sister to see us?" He pointed out, leaning back where he lay. He crooked his head to the side, exposing his neck again. "You talk quite a lot." He murmured as the other spoke about the rabbits. "I used to catch hares as well," He admitted, shrugging. "Big, strong ones. Makes for great soup, hmm?" He smiled, as if he was kidding, and his eyes gleamed. Now he reached out for Albus, catching his ankle. "Lie down with me Albus." He hummed. 

Albus smiled at the gentle hand on his ankle, and bent down to lightly tap the blond man's nose. "To warn you: in English, 'to lay with someone'' is phrase had double meaning. Unless that is your motive." Albus teased the German wizard, falling beside him once more and relaxing his shoulders again. Like a tower, they had raised before. Now, they descended along with the former shakiness of his breathing. With the threat of Ariana being present now averted, he just laid himself down into the grass. 

He ignored the dirt settling into his hair and into his clothes. The dirt beneath him molded a comfortable clump of flowers and green for his head, and he stared blankly at the sky above him. He always told his siblings and his friends not to get dirty. He also claimed to others that he was celibate. Claimed that he really didn't mind being around here until Abe graduated. Yet, it seemed that he never listened to his own words. He couldn't believe them, and that was the problem. They were all based on lies.

Stands of blond hair moving near-by caught his attention, and with a frown, he supposed that staying around wasn't going to be too hard. "Gellert," Albus started. He rolled onto his stomach, facing the younger teen. "You never mentioned why you're here. I'm curious." He announced. The wizard said that Bathilda invited him here to straighten him out, but knowing Gellert as a fellow bright young wizard, Albus knew there had to be an actual motive for being around here. "I can't imagine staying here in Godric's Hollow out of actual thirst for this environment. And knowing you, you wouldn't let your mother send you to your aunt without purpose. You despise her, as all people do. There's probably something here that you need, perhaps?" With a raised brow and a smile, he waited for Gellert to answer. 

Gellert only grinned at Albus when he started to talk about logisitics. As he laid down he moved his hands over his slender hips again. He was resting on his side, letting his eyes soak in the image of the young Dumbledore. So young, but at the same time so wise. He could almost see him as an old man, and that was no criticism. He could see the way that his eyes would start to sink in, but how they would never loose their brilliant blue hue. The way his lips would grow thinner and thinner, and how his clean-shaved chin would be covered in white beard as soft as his now auburn hair that was tickling Gellert's cheeks. He inwardly frowned at his own sentimental behaviour, but his features remained soft and lightly smirking. 

He spent the silence by moving fingertips over Albus' sides, feeling the way his body curved and imagined how it later would be a bit crooked. Despite Albus being thin Gellert felt that he was strong, at least his magic was. It was vast, he could feel that. He could also feel that Albus hid most of it, which intrigued him. What he felt may only be the smallest fraction of what Albus was capable of, and he could already feel that he was capable of wonders. He tilted his head as the other spoke, his eyes was busy with counting the wrinkles of the other's robe and he only hummed to indicate that he was listening. 

His eyes made their way slowly up to Albus. Sea grass green meeting sky blue. He spent a moment to evaluate the tension of the air, the other was smiling. Wanting him to answer. "Maybe." Gellert hummed. The other was right of course, as always. "Hmm, but I've only known you for a short time, yes? How do I know if you are trustworthy? I don't give all of my secrets out that easily, Albus." He murmured. "And who said I'm not doing it for the sake of the people I know?" He purred, pressing himself closer to Albus side. He flipped himself over to his back, looking up at the sky. "But alas, you are right Albus. I have a purpose for being here. I'm afraid that you would laugh if I told you, though." He admitted, glancing at Albus who was looking at him with curious eyes.

"A man's purpose is no laughing matter." Albus retorted quietly, the intensity of his eyes growing more fiery as the sun glazed above them. Albus felt beads of sweat slide down his chin, and and the warmth of the sun embraced his skin. Noon was approaching in full swing. "I won't press you on it, but I do expect you to tell me. Eventually." When Albus declared this, his mouth melted into a crooked smile, and then he lifted up from the grasslands. His palms were caked in dirt, so he wiped them off on his shirt before he held a hand out for the German wizard. His fingers brushed to clasp his hand as Gellert accepted the arm. At this moment, Albus's stomach was hit with a wave of energy that flowed in all directions. 

It like a force knocked into his own, flowing and entangling in the air. Whether this was a hint of Gellert's magic or just anxiety, Albus's spine shivered all the same. He straightened his back immediately. "I do believe we've had enough gardening today. If we don't show up soon, your dear aunt might suspect us to have set up camp here. To be camp, perhaps." Albus warned with a good-natured grin. The two wizards ambled back towards Bathilda's two-story house. Albus admired the architecture from afar in a way he didn't have the patience to before. It was brand new in its Victorian style, one that even wizards participated in these days from the muggles. Chasing rabbits didn't leave much time to notice that. Times were changing, slowly. 

Then Albus averted his gaze, feeling a little too effeminate. Then a thought came to his head, and he chuckled a little. "Honestly. To believe that doing activities such as this will straighten you out in... different definitions of the word is, um, counter intuitive I believe." He jested. "Look at all of the flowers! That doesn't scream brotherly."

Albus was like a feather, floating in the wind. So light that when Gellert reach out to grab it, it swirled to the side in a teasing manner. He would’ve never imagined that Albus was this cheeky. This hard to claim. He had thought that he had the other under his palm, but then he slid from underneath it – swirling to the side and not letting Gellert wrap his fingers securely around him. 

He took his arm, pulling himself up. Sure that his frustration could be felt in his presence, despite the fact that he kept his expression clear with a smirk adorning his lips as always. He didn’t let go of the other’s arm right away, instead moved his fingertips – brushing them against his underarm, to his wrist. 

“Frankly-“he purred, as he moved his fingers downwards – entangling their fingers in an affectionate gesture. “I don’t think that anyone would dare to call me camp.” He murmured, and his smirk grew into a more ill-witted grin. “You on the other hand, not so certain.” He teased, and as they were standing in the line of the woods and Albus looked away from him, he took his chance and he pulled the other closer. “I don’t think anyone believes that ‘abstinence’ spiel.” He growled in a husky whisper right into the other’s ear as he grazed it with his teeth. “And I bet no one can miss the way that you’re aching for me.”

Like wispy brushes cold air, Gellert's breath ghosted on Albus's neck like the evening air does on a warm body. He shivered a little. "Your aunt may not believe fully believe my abstinence at the moment. Especially so." Albus agreed, his lips twitching up into a smirk at the younger wizard. He lifted their fingers to lightly brush his lips on Gellert's hand. His eyes watched the other boy, waiting for him to react. 

When he lowered his fingers, he said: "She believes she could find a good wife for I, dear Gellert. I see the look in her eyes: Give the boy some time." Albus's own eyes gleamed. He'd never marry, if it meant being with a witch. Albus let out a peek of a smile, baring teeth. "But poor Gellert Grindelwald, her eyes say. I think she suspects marriage is out of the question for a bachelor such as yourself." He loosened the grip on their hands, walking for a few yards before releasing it completely. His feet lead him and his companion back to his own house, instead of Bathilda's. If Gellert noticed the change of path, he didn't mention anything of it. 

"Tell me, friend. If anything, the one thing you're actually married to would be your future research, or plans." Albus suggested, taking a guess. He never directly mentioned Durmstang since the night they met. "If anything within me aches for you, my curiosity of what lead you to this quiet little village definitely aches most of all." Neither denial nor an outright omission. He raised a brow, his mood lightening. "Surely not voluntarily? Godric Hollow's not precisely the peak of wizardry achievement. Forget what the tourism guilds may of said." He joked, with a smile. 

Gellert let Albus lead them through the town, he also let the other run his mouth. It was interesting to hear where his mouth went if he didn’t interrupt him or steer him. He hummed. “I think that you’re mistaken Albus.” He walked close to him. Never taking his hand, but letting their shoulder’s brush up against each other. “I’ve been with, well. A bit of both.” He purred. “I fear that you’ve got a more… acquired taste. “ He purred. It was easy. Gellert had been able to spot it pretty much right away. Albus held no interest in women that way – Not even in the slightest. 

“Chance.” he answered finally, as he was lead into the Dumbledore kitchen. Outside of the window Ariana was taking care of the goats in the garden. She had a gentle but stern hand with them. “My village wasn’t glad to see me back from Durmstrang, and… well, my great-aunt was generous enough to take me in.” He pulled fingers through his golden hair. “Though I doubt it was solely selflessness which made her bring me in. I think she’s curious, just as you are.” He pointed out. “And, well, Godric’s Hollow holds a thing or two that interest me greatly.” 

"I'm sure." Albus murmured, with a hum.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this fic with my lovely co-writer, Skurf. This fic started as a role play in prose style, and we decided after a year to post it all. I write as Albus, and she writes as Gellert. It's not finished, and the title of the fic might change because it's a temporary title. Just letting you lovelies know. Thank you!


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